.
Late to realize, as always
it dawns on me only today
that you chose me.
Yes, scarred, bedraggled, and loose
in places, someone you barely knew—
you come to me.
This is, I think a reprieve.
My pretty pardon for wanton
self-destruction, a vicious sin.
Your eyes, clear glass
reflect tiny pieces of me,
wringing hands, lank hair.
It takes all me strength to even
begin hoping. Beautiful boy,
shiny and new—
I murmur prayers to keep you.
.
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