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If I can’t have you
give me your words to sleep with
to wrap round myself in the lonely nights

when I reach and you’re not there
and may never be.
Tell me things, word-me.
Tangle me, knot me, ink me
all over your sheets
of scalded white. 
Words I can live in, bathe in,
put in my heart-pocket
to hold, treasure, fondle and caress.
Say them but once
and they will last me forever.
My life of words,
my word-love
of you.



(c) 2013 Iseult Healy

All rights reserved

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