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you never love me, I know, but comfort me just the same
As you sit beside me
You become my right hand
As if you have become
Another reliable part of
My body
Touch my face, caress my hair
Sit down with me on my chair
Comfort me again
I have been hurt
By the absence of your being
The heart that was never there
Beating
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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