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"His warmth" by Joe DiMino

Pity to think vision
only eyes,
restrict sound
to limited ear,
scent to foul or fragrant moment,
feeling to fabric,
and taste to bitter-sweet refrain.

I bathe in His warmth-
letting go,
as if a bird
leaving the nest for the first time,
trusting in something I can't see
sense will lift my wings
and glide me.