The Reason for Leaving


Let me be your reprieve.
A place not sought, but found.
A warmth against your cheek and,
the long languid brush of lips.

Beyond the days of waiting,
within the expiration of lost years.
Walled off and quiet, in a bed of desire.
It waits to be broken down and rustled.

Let there be hope
that battles against this fool's will.
The one that sees fate and need entwined.
And once allowed its savage blow,
instead,
gives up its victory to yield a caress.

Let me be the one that remains,
when the dusk fades to ink black sky.
And in this hurt alone,
when you grow tired of silent walls and
last round calls.
Then,
let there be a place for me,
by your fire.

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