Eighty-sixth birthday
Your whisper in my ear, ‘Can you hear me?’
A peck on my ear-lobe. We reposition carefully
and lie embraced. And that’s it, really.
After a while we disengage and fall asleep.
Sometimes I feel the ghost of sweet relief;
I hope that you do, too.
A peck on my ear-lobe. We reposition carefully
and lie embraced. And that’s it, really.
After a while we disengage and fall asleep.
Sometimes I feel the ghost of sweet relief;
I hope that you do, too.
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