Courtesy: Pixabay
She’d known fists
before her freedom
and they’d known her name,
the scars on the inside festering
where she’d closed off hope.
His tender touch,
it was contrast afire.
He opened her fears
to future revelation,
crafting doors with care
and adding windows
for the walls she’d built for protection,
for the walls he helped to make a home.
©September 2020
Christina Anne Hawthorne
The essence of Ontyre captured in images.
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