This is Something for Tomorrow

This is something for tomorrow,

for the rest of the weary,

for the early rise of steam,

from blackend hearts and creamed cup,

This is something for the leaping

and the fall down to.

This is for the sweet tooth extracted

and each granule of sugar served.

This is for hands raised in praise.

This is for hands raised in fear.

This is for the ones we wake

when we’ve been silent.

This is for vows made.

This is for my hands pressed against the mirror

for I have nothing to hold.

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