The Way Home

There's a warmth in this cold,
anticipation ringing clear,
our future glistening on tips of melting buds:
a rustling urgency,
a fanning love;
and beneath it all there's you:
your heart wildly beating in candace with mine,
drumming the vibrations of all I see,
driving the motions for all I do:
Nothing ever been this clear before,
so ripe ready and restless:
We're bursting with the linear nature of time;
It's not long until you'll be infinitely mine.

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