Amor, Emma Stevenson

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and the windows clattered to a closeu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 shutting out the windu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 the outside

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world from entering into the sanctuaryu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 the warmthu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 of our little home

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and darkness flooded inu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 brightening the quiet glow of the lamp beside our

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rickety bedu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 plush with cushionsu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 a throwu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 yesterdayu2019s clothes

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and I waited for you to fall asleep before I dared to join youu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 to keep you

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up with my restlessnessu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 my tossingu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 turningu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 exhausted sighs

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and when sleep escaped from my spindly fingers I went downstairsu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 made

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myself a mug of chamomile teau00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 reflected on the peace that can be found in

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pouring rain as it dances on the roofu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 pelting with the fervour of my loved-up

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heartu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 truly beatingu00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0u00a0 for the first time

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u00a9 Emma Stevenson

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Emma Stevensonu00a0is a recent MA history graduate, living and working in London as an editorial intern at an eBook publisher. She wrote her first poem, u2018The Dolphinu2019, when she was 9 years old and has been writing ever since.

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