there are
lines inside me – seams where I have been
stitched up || folds that hold me together –
like outside me – wrinkles around my eyes ||
creases on the palms of my hands – where
the old fringes the new.

and within the breaks
of these lines you grow ||

each day. seamlessly melding
into me. like something familiar
and destined.

in life’s happening,
|| worlds upon
worlds converging.

writings our eyes can’t
decipher, but if they could,
fragile and wavering ||
they would read like this story 
of you and me.

© SoulReserve 2020

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