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doug bentley


Touch


when we surrender we die.

life lifts outstretched arms and we,
poor adams, uncomprehending

of the miracle touch has brought,
stare blankly into the eye

of an infinity we will not find
a beginning to begin to know

Submitted: Thursday, June 20, 2013
Edited: Thursday, December 04, 2014

Topic of this poem: dying


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