You lay curled up in a ball, with such perfectly formed hands
nearly clasped.Your delicate fingers almost intertwined.
Your eyes remain closed as though slumber was sweet.
It had you for a time,locked in eternity.
I traced your eyes, ears, nose, and mouth
memorizing each line, every curve.
Your smallness frightens me,
the span of a hand.
So fragile you are, little one.
But no one can harm you, nothing can hurt you.
You are so still..
wont you wake?
I long to see each breath you draw, each smile you make.
Your eyes, I wonder what color they are?
Your skin, so pale against the shadows.
Are you cold?
A glass wall separates us from both our worlds,
but you're too far to be reached.
Never to be cradled. Your cries, never to be heard.
Forever drowning in a jar
of what could have been your tears...
or mine.
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@xtine1
I love writing.. How words play in my head like a wonderful symphony just aching to be written. There are days when I seem to write better when I'm torn and confused.. Poetry is like a tide that washes away all emotional imprints that mar the sand that is your soul..
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