Memory - Poem by Francis Santaquilani
It was the middle of the night
When you came to me and told me,
'You'll find no love out here'.
You shut off the steady spring rain
To make sure I heard every word.
You placed your mouth close to the flesh
Above my head.
Your voice sliced through the fluid
I heard every word.
The pounding heart, my constant companion,
Skipped a beat or two.
It seemed like a hundred.
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