Mountains formed because of you along
A valley that sets aside who you are
Allows for the angle of the sun to cast light
So defines you still within a joy you lost.

Mendacity persists even in the afterglow
Of dusk a precious reminder of your skin like
The auburn stutter of a star’s last thoughts
As I rise to the chorus timbre of your light

Marked by this constant remnant of the dark
We’ve become tragic cause for sorrow assumed
And rest on the periphery of time’s loss of wonder
Just as I come home to you on Christmas Day


© K. James Ribble

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