Everything you carry,
You carry, together.
By Aricka GannonPublished 2 years ago • Updated 2 years ago • 1 min read
Photo by Thomas Bonnin on Unsplash
Back then,
the only English you knew
was my name.
Running toward the shipyard,
Lifting crates from the cobblestone.
You wrote me recently:
To love and be loved-
It means everything you carry,
You carry, together.
In a way, we’re strangers.
But I don’t miss anything from home,
Except you.
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