you sit with your guitar cradled like a first love,
held the way i wonder if you’d ever hold me
and strum me “blackbird,”
quiet as a daybreak,
blinds slowly lifting to expose a stream of newborn gold
at which i grapple to harness in my morning fingers
as you close your eyes and slip into your darkroom
of music and shadows

and this is when i love you most
& when i lose you,
every time.
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