And you stop
And you rember how precious that beating was
You remember the warmth of his life and the beat of his blood in the rhythm of remembering you remember his grin
And his eyes
And the kind way he listened
And the soft haze of his sigh
And the lilt if his voice and the crevices of his mind and the time he allowed you to help him rake the leaves
And you are stopped and you realize that the thought of never really gaining independance from the love you allow to live in every hallway of your life is really not all that scary
And you realize you might go all the way back to the beginning if it were allowed

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