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For Us
In the way our fingers curl as they fit
Between the notches of each other's spine;
In the way my senses quiver and split
To feel what seeing has yet to define;
In the way our rattled, shaking spirits,
Like wandering stars, perfectly align,
Though in the briefest moment time permits
For us,
I would be enraptured and free,
Releasing you from adamantine chains
And into the fires ignited in me—
Combustion I can no longer contain,
Candescence that bursts forth so frenziedly
To consume thoughts once lost and now regain'd—
So that we may feel what we cannot see.
poem
by
Tim Stensloff
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