Just more softening
A little more space
Some blurred edges,
Filed dull and round,
Not quite so sharp.
Some quiet discourse
Or maybe a touch without any words.
Show them the hurt
If they lack the imagination –
Less victory, fewer champions
And more conversion, more of
A seasonal heart that melts
From ice into water.
Just more charity
And the simple wish
Of a tasty dinner
In secure and loving arms.
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