And Everything In Between

Anthony Arnott

Fragility, but with robust grace.
      It pricks and sings, swarms
           and attacks, embrace

and dance; you cannot see it or disguise it,
but it remains on you forever, a scent
you never tire of
inhaling.

It disappears
          and with it goes sleep
          and peace
          and hope
          and love,
          feel wanted.


Sharp bites,
soft
whistle, sore and tender
and dark
and light.

           And everything in between.
           Waiting.

Return.
Carry a dull ache, hollow
heaviness.

          Never
 to be the same
          again.
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