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my tinsel heart


FB_20141221_09_04_48_Saved_Picturethe twenty-seventh day of december

in a year

we did not share together

.

afterglow of christmas beaming

from the tree

through my scotch-taped-back-together soul

.

tis the season to ache infinitely

.

driving through light strands

of red and yellow traffic

to the art museum upon the hill

.

with the little park beside it

where the son we will never have

took his first wobbly

bear dripping honey grinning steps

.

into your arms as i watched filming

jumping and cooing the way a mother does

over the littlest triumphs

.

but we never were, darling

our lips never touched

.

our breathy kissed love affair

ether white wedding by the sea

raven haired children

are nothing

but a shared

far away dream

.

an assorted pile of glistening

christmas presents

never to be wrapped

accumulating beneath

my tinsel heart

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