in the sounds of your laugh
that comfort me more
than the warmest blanket
and soothe me greater
than the sheets of my bed
I am fragile
in the strong gates
of your arms
and I fear I will crumble
to pieces in your grasp
but then you laugh
and I am no longer afraid
not of you
because how could
an iron statue
carry the voice of an
angel on its shoulders?
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