366 Poems: February 2nd, 2016

Stories

Give me a strong grip to hold on

to these sweet cliffs

after you’re gone,

and I will tell some stories true

of how I’ll sleep

right next to you.

When the sun’s gone and you feel fear,

I’ll speak of springs

and skies so clear.

I’ll tell you how magic is real

inside your eyes,

in how I feel.

I know in fact, there’s fiction few

but promise me,

in all you do,

whether you stay or leave me be,

just leave the end

a mystery.

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