"She walks up to me
Her fingers slide down my face
We’re going to be
She moves with steady grace
My body is caressed by soft fingers
Her whispers floating on air
Memories of her linger
She really does care
She wipes away perspiration
Then steps to my back
This isn’t my imagination
Her love is a fact
Her hands grip my mane
Her body leaning against mine
There is zero pain
This is all fine
She hoists herself on
Her leg thudding on my side
Now I want to run
I no longer want to hide
She looks to the sky
She asks me to go
I feel I can fly
She seems to know"
~Grace Marshall
From my poem, "Freedom Sound"
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