Blow away you say?
Blow away all preciousness
Blow away everything
that truly matters to this heart?
Poked, probed, pricked, pinned
Broken, tattered, worn thin,
Whatever its state or shape,
It is an object of my love.
How can I wish away
the fire to my cold,
the rain to my drought
the rhythm to my heart?
The waiting never ceased
The wanting never ceased
I may have turned my face away
But I never stopped loving
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