Do I need
the love of another?
Am I agreed
two hearts are above the
peace and respite
one feels on their own,
the well-tested
the solemnity of my home?
I fear the question is its answer.
It’s presence demands…
An acceptance of the fate
dealt by its hands.
rapping on the metal sheets
that house the wheels
which pull the garage door
into and out of its shield
warm rain, beating down…
an April din
small hours, ushering in
spring again
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