The Needed Image

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It was at my house;
‘No other place would be quite as right,’ he said.
Looming night sucked us together —
whether it was me to him
or him into my arms …
Well it’s hard to tell, now.

Then it was all blue light and silver profiles.
(The dark does lend a certain shadowed charm.)
But now I remember he said he needed me
and laid his head in my lap.

Afterwards
he suggested that we might have tea;
filled the kettle, smiled trustingly
and said, ‘Well,
shall you be mother?’

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