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Love Line
February 20, 2012
My eyes were a
trembling glass
waiting for the tip, tip, timber.
But you held me;
a net in the ocean;
a hand
to lift me from
a sea of legs;
a candle of
everlasting wick
keeping my flame bright.
I let the wind guide me
floating
along
like a kite
to a child's Saturday string.
Right back to you;
took me
right back to you
every time.
© Nina S., Arlington, VA
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