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A little poem I wrote.

The yielding sofa cradles me while

Canned laughter crackles,

Flush light flickers.

You hand me a blanket

And the soft material warms between my toes.

A shadow strokes the wall as a car passes

Somewhere disregarded,

Casting the wind a pliant chord and

Leaving silent as before,

Cadence forgotten in passing. 

Our tiny home, protective and breathing

Against a backdrop of infinity, and

We in refuge of painless accord;

To be around you is enough.