©David Vale
THE TOUCH
Cool silent rippling trickle
fingers meander and sway
dangle overboard with
eyes
closed dreaming of
distant days of echoing memories
arches cast shadow from
the golden orb that
warm a dream language
defined by cupids
letters I memorized
beneath the bridge I
wished away at the touch
of your hand in mine
©Mills Laine
©Mills Laine
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