Origami Master
My soul's a sheet
of flat paper,
unfolded and featureless
until your hands press
and pinch, crease
my stubborn fears
to your desire.
You know what fills
my nascent core
and never give me up
but with your strength
to fine edge crease
and make of me at last
angel's wings.
poem by Steven Federle
Added by Poetry Lover
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