Thursday, December 18, 2014

I come empty handed to you,
Like a child
With a a weedy flower or two,
Or something he's found in the road:
A button,
A penny,
Some plastic art.

But you, come,
Like a little child, too,
And let's enter the gates of heaven
Alone,
And blow dandelions
And play hide and seek
With my near broken heart.

-jenn

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