Grace
When we get back from here,
tell me how it was,
the stretches of land we crossed,
the friends we made.
Wake me up with a smile
that erases all the wrongs,
that speaks nothing of forgiveness,
that sings a few broken tunes,
half-remembered and off key.
Wait for me on the other side,
where we can dance a last rhumba
and tell each other secrets
we always knew.
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