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Glass like Love
As though we never could hurt the ones we love, some irretrievable things remain with us—a mother’s necklace fallen between the baseboards, a song sung over and over under the heavy covers of a sleep— like breath, a part of us, the way touching exposes what’s missing, and our hearts can consume so much, and this, becomes the story’s turn—a child who kisses her father on the forehead because everything that was his was also hers, because he asked her to embrace this life, or at least so she thought, the way he would want her to one day love— willingly, almost hoping, to ache.
Published in Oberon Poetry Magazine
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“Sleepwalker” silk-screen by Carol Buchman |

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eMail: David / ©2008 David Crews. All rights reserved. |