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26 September 2010 @ 12:56 pm
o, what divine woe!  
speak nothing;
the vacancies between your breaths
comfort more than trite words ever could.

do you hear it? – the deep, incessant groaning
that burns in the pit of our stomachs –
sometimes i wonder if it will burn us alive.

but these internal laments, falling together in unison:
they sing of such beautiful sorrow.
o, what divine woe! that softens your lips into a smile
as i bask in the empathic glow of your eyes.

if only i could have reached for your hand –
i would have clasped it so tightly – but
i think you already knew.

instead, we stand three feet apart,
i nestling into my winter coat
and you clinging to your nicotine pacifier;

we have our own ways of shielding ourselves from the cold.

but in the quiet,
these inarticulate groanings are given the same name.
this alone is solace.