Thursday, March 20, 2008

C'mon, Darlin', let's go home.

It had been the worst day of his life
Beaten, without sleep, alone
His head on the table, tears would not come
Hallucinating the touch of a lost lover
As she brushed aside his hair
Gracing his neck with a forgotten kiss
As her hands teased the worry from his shoulders
He knew this was not a dream
"C'mon, Darlin', let's go home."
The anger, frustration, shame and fear
Finally flowed from his bloodshot eyes
Fists pounded, he could not shout
Save to list his failings in delirium
She grabbed the fists and held them
"Don't. Don't do this to yourself."
Gently she uncurled each clenched hand
Softly kissing first one palm, then the next
And held them to her breast.
Her gaze was absolution, her touch, redemption
"C'mon, Darlin', let's go home."
It became the best day of his life.

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