To my River by Asif Hassan

I know you whisper
When the wind blows cold.
Your lips shape up a drowsy prayer of remembrance,
And for minutes, it will hold,
Until it subsides like a riptide that once hit the shore.
With a raging vigor, so bold.
I’ll draw up plans of your rebellious getaway
‘Cause, Darling, you need to live to score.
You need to move around and away and be free and more
And you think we hold you but we want you to go.

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