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Six. Eight. Thirteen.

(a poem)

By Chris AshleyPublished 4 years ago 1 min read
Six. Eight. Thirteen.
Photo by Clem Onojeghuo on Unsplash

Deep breath.

Palm sweat.

Can these people see the shaking?

I’m alone.

And I’m not.

Two lines approaching.

My men.

Her women.

I barely know they’re there.

Breathe.

One last time.

Doors open.

There she is.

One hundred and four.

The feet between us.

Between now and forever.

Each step.

Breathe.

Oh no.

Here they come.

One tear.

Two tears.

A thousand more.

Shaking.

Choking.

Here you are.

How can I speak?

It’s not my turn.

The preacher.

“Let’s all pause…

…and BREATE.”

Collect myself.

As if I can.

Today is the day.

This is the moment.

We are finally here.

I do.

Forever.

love poems

About the Creator

Chris Ashley

Pastor. Podcaster. Writer. Dad. Soccer fanatic.

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