proud of this one Jessica .. .
> <<
The uncomfortable truth
like a swollen river flooding
carries purpose with waste
and a tune you may only whistle
<<< >>>
No one can hold a soft, black moth
or a paper fly in a calloused hand
without damage or bruising conscience
it’s a deceit you are forced to learn
>><<
That face I love has grown older now
innocence creased, wan and leathered
it still holds the memory that burns
worth more now the envelopes open
<><>
Things go with you to the grave
not just secrets, lies or murder
words unspoken, silent confessions,
quiet prayers queuing for an answer
<> ><>
In that velvet, purple journal
love’s treasured moments rest
they glisten in their infancy
colours of a pheasants chest
<>< <><
Lives lived with faces to the wall
harsh choices made in haste
loyalty a dark knight,
filiality a burnished, beaten sword
<<> <>>
Hold…
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