Her

The ache is constant. It’s a weary kind of ache, almost in my bones

And the next it’s a panicky kind of agitation

It’s wells up inside and threatens to spill over

Tarnishing everything in its wake
She is my saviour

I pull her to me, as I pull her out of the bath and wrap a towel around her

I hold her with a frightened intensity

This moment that I will never see again or have with another

I soak it all in and I can’t let go

Her smell, her tiny body against mine, the ferocity of the moment unknown to her

She just likes hugs

She will hug me to the stars, to the moon and back to the stars again, she says
Life is beautiful, then it is cruel then it is beautiful again

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