Soul Mate

a day is not complete
without her
and the nights are not
as cold as they use to be
until she takes the
place of emptiness
on your side

in sleep you are
more confident
no one harms
you even when
old nightmares
come

you place back
your hands to the
bossom of
your mother

she places her
hands on your hair
sleeps is as sound
as the silence
of the cotton

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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