dirty windows
look upon a cottage

from my dining room
i keep a careful watch
over bedroom curtains

then i can see flickering lights
if she wrestles with the night
while i am awake
writing silly poems about love

as each day passes
it will be harder to drive away
the maturation process
the joy and the pain
of the waters that flow through my life

the stars and moon rise
to bathe us in eternal grace
where my understanding crumbles
under a magnificent sky
that protects my dreams
like treasures

the gratitude in my heart
cannot be lost in the tears
of seeing her struggles
because the fire is not mine
but borrowed gold
that reminds me
nothing is ordinary

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