The poet sat in his rocking chair
his eyes fixed upon an empty photo frame
He smiled as if he knew the secrets it held
as if reading words only he could see
listening to a voice only he could hear

I saw you every night, as you walked up the cliff and emptied a box full of dreams into the raging sea and wondered why my heart bled as they crashed and were washed away by the waves.

One such night I wanted to hold them, I wanted to  hold you and as if in a dream I found your hand resting in mine. There were rain clouds in your eyes that night and we sang to each other easing the pain,  easing the night.

I knew you long before we met, long before you knew who you were, long before I knew I existed. You were the angel, flying high among the stars, the one who gave me my wings.

The poet sat in his rocking chair
he had rainclouds in his eyes again 
reading the story only he knew
for it was his, it was theirs 


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