Written by Poetry, Writing

I feel it

Hand Above Water

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I know the best kind of worrying.

I rub the callouses on his hands.

She sprays lavender on my pillow.

She makes me soup and crumbles the crackers.

When my brother asks me to buy him beer.

 I buy him one beer. Singular.

This kind of worrying oxygenates every blood cells.

It is the best kind of flood.