Galleryi rushed to the painting
of she who believed against,
of she who trusted all,
and stared at it–
my breath, ragged,
my sweat, dripping.
the intricate design
of the art’s life
almost brought me to tears.
it understood me,
it realized me,
it made me.
i snatched it away
from the white walls
and a loud sound rang.
i ran and i heard shouts
behind me that i ignored.
dear, you would always
be worth the risk
even if i knew
i would see myself bleeding
at the finish line.

let me hold your words before you leave;

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