you will write a love song

and your voice will be free to sing it

and the decibels will rise and rise until they

shatter the glass encasing the wildly beating thing

whose fractured wings have bruised themselves against

the walls you have built around it and those walls crash down

like a cascade of broken ice when spring has come and

the river at last is free to flow again and you are

free to feel again the murmurs of the love

song you have written and I know

that you will sing again



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Ramble back at me...

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