And I need every morning, every afternoon
kiss on the role of my pencil, between the lines that life
that constant walking
that nourish my silence
the desire of lover, that love
in a heartbeat
that joy in singing that floated
bird in sky radiant
that source of life
water from rivers and seas that drop of dew
brightly
diamond in the prime spring
of a revival expectant smile child
tenderness in old age in this world dancing
that voice at all ...
at a time.
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