You slipped without preamble
onto the edges of my life
with the quiet beauty
of a gazelle,
whose soft eyes
viewed my landscape,
then tentatively approached
to graze near my terrain,
sensing that a unique, loving bond
could be forged between us
of hope and trust
and shared pain.
Later on,
you stood quietly,
eyes brimmed with compassion,
while I peeled away
layer after layer
of veneer, of covering;
to expose a raw and bleeding core.
Then without a word
you soaked some tender leaves
in that clear mountain lake
and applied a poultice
of love, of healing, of caring
to my wounded, hurting heart.
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