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Diane EngleOctober 20, 2003

Safely young and just beginning,
we were quick to deal with love.
Ever giving, ever winning,
mild gesture, clement move.

Learning how to prove devotion,
we were one and sometimes two.
Like bright waves in stormy motion,
separate to blend anew.

We could not have guessed how quickly
chance would change the rules. In fear
we pledged our troth again, obliquely
begging fate for one more year.

Time is cruel, but I’ll not falter;
your glazed eyes demand my strength.
One more act upon love’s altar—
I will go to any length.

This my heart, your route to heaven.
These my hands, your path from pain.
This the gift that love has given:
Take it, sleep, find peace again.

Those are angels coming for you;
those are my tears on your brow.
I have proved now how I love you:
this is how, this is how.

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