Her Footprints
By driver
What we share is more than a bed It's the Saturday morning coffee pot and newspaper The simple fun of Scrabble and a bottle of coupon wine The laughter of our kids good books funny stories and X-Files I enjoy her company always will These are mere words If my blood were words I would open my veins let the crimson run down these Victorian streets So that she could walk barefoot and actually feel the warmth And to return home leaving her footprints, my soul. Written April 11th, 2002 © on Apr 11 2002 05:28 AM PST 0 • 8
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"What we share..."