© 2018  Kelsey Cronin

    Monday Musing

    May 15, 2018

    I lay my tired bones down at the narrow gate to let them be conquered by this cavalcade of undeserved grace. Here's the white flag, here's the pen; here's my empty, ink-stained hands and all the places my mind has been. All over again. No more solo daydreams down tenuous, rickety streets; just lover and beloved in the chasm where two thirsts meet. What a sweet ache is this growing pain, what an earth-shattering noun that forms the sound of your name, what a glorious sight it will be when rose is entangled with flame. 

     

     

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