Almost Holy

The longing for you is almost holy.

Warm you sleep;

your eyelids closing are the night coming for me.

Inescapable love of lives, 

my lingering ache is the origami crane tucked in your breast.

Doing undoing wills and possibilities:

with each breath, life raises itself and

with every exhale it returns.

As it is with all things which belong to god

– nothing can stay away from you

too long.

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