I am not a thief
I've not come to take
I've come to admire
to touch your bit of grace
to show you the beauty
that truely you are

I continue to play
on your old piano
but my fingers are getting sore
I don't want to pluck heartstrings
I want you to become the finished score

I compose a sonnet
known only to you
Ode to a Gardener
Whose planted
deep within
me

Maybe then
you'll come off of
the stairway...

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