The Pale Window

House of Heart

The  sun is still low in the sky,  its rays have barely begun to pierce the chill of our pale window.  Don’t go,  we are scarcely out of dreaming.  Feel my heart beat with the lifeline of your palm as  my head rests in the crook of your shoulder.   These   fingertips you kiss one by one will ease the furrow of your brow and  I  will soothe your body with the twining of my own. Let the hours pass  through us tenderly like a shallow river of fledgling reeds.
Steve hanks art

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