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Mar 16
I sit on her lap—
no questions
no words for tiredness.

My head—
just above the surface
watching the sky curve
into a blue cradle.

She does not ask
if I am afraid
or if I want to stay—
I only know
what it means
to be held—
to feel her close
without breaking.

To be
the soft body
of an island.
November Sky
Written by
November Sky  70/M/Canada
(70/M/Canada)   
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