Forgive

Dragonfly girlForgive
her tongue.
Forgive
the way
her arms
hang loosely
around me.
She is
softness; she
is in my mouth
itching to say,
forgive.
Her hair is
soft as fire,
her body
limped numb.
She has
no defense,
no fight,
so she
leans on me.
I let her.
Love is
a symptom,
not a cure.
All comfort
begins in
open hands.
She cries
herself clean
and I forgive
what she
could not.

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