Written (poem)

I cannot give the
answers. I do not know
the future. these hands
have no skill to tame
the storms that rage.
but I can fold the shirt,
sweep the floor, bring
order to a space. I can
listen with my mind in
my heart;
keep dipping
my finger in the
cooling ink of passing
years—write over and
over on the canvas of
your skin:

I am yours forever.

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