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We hold softly
Gently
In our hands
Those things we’ve broken
As if somehow
If we are gentle enough
We can put back together
Those things we made fall apart
But even if
Somehow
We made those pieces fit
It wouldn’t be the same
Running our fingertips
Across the smooth
We would feel the rough
People are like that
And the relationships
That bind us
And while we can never be
Put back together exactly the same
We can grow to find comfort
In those rough edges
For in those rough edges
Are the stories
Of how we came to be

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