I used to joke that I wrote a poem a decade. That should make them easy to remember, right? So it was a bit unsettling to find this poem tucked in an old notebook, dated July 2007. I have no recollection of writing it, and no idea what was on my mind at the time. Apparently I penned it after walking the then-new labyrinth at the University of Maryland.
My arms ache for you,
Your serious facade
I ache to hold you
I held you in the wordless night,
My fingers tracing your fingers and wiping your tears,
gathering in your frayed ends.
My arms enfolding your fragile soul.
Eyes memorizing your skin and hair.
Eyes meeting yours and diving deep within.
Who can hold you now?
Who can look into your heart?
I promise this:
Your arms will be warm enough.
Your touch will be gentle.
Your eyes will be caring.
Your voice will be strong enough.
To hold a child against your loving heart,
To sing love songs to the lonely world.
To love yourself
To hold yourself
and then another...and another...and another.
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