
You are tattooed with experience,
your skin etched with blood and fire.
I wonder how often you laugh,
if you allow yourself to experience joy.
You are this immovable force,
but I want nothing more for you,
than to get lost in a stream.
I think of you more often than I should.
I wonder at how my designs would fit on you.
I think maybe, they hold too many curves
and your right angles would reject them.
You hold too many cages formy flights of fancy to endure.
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