February 11, 2021

reformed

three inches of white
creeping up the stones
around our backyard tree
the snow owns the earth
and all I can think about
is proclaiming that I, too, am owned

you have me

with all this cold
the world needs some warmth
with all these lies, something true
and maybe the declaration of us
can be both?

let’s write it on parchment
nail it to the door
after all, I am reformed by your touch
every time we meet


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captured he was trying to remember, how she so fully captured him
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we’ll flip a coin you're here in memory, carefree in the candlelight, scenting my sheets