each of your love-stitched words
stroke the grief-bent shoulders
of a mending heart;
their fibrous strands
close tenderly and slowly
the holes left behind
by profound absences

And so I shall continue to sew
my words into the holes
that sometimes define you
I will then kiss those cracks
With all the love in me
So that everytime despair
comes to befriend you
You can feel my profound presence

*In context of the Daily Post Prompt profound

 

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