You held my face
in your hands
and kissed my cheek,
whispering of love
and of first times.
And I know now
what I did not then,
that your words
(ones that healed
as well as hurt)
were a form of mercy
that actions could not
speak louder than.
i always thought that actions speak louder than words. But now that I read this, I realise that some words have the power to grab hold of you and turn you into something unfamiliar to yourself. It's the words that are unaccompanied by actions that has this power to twist and distort. But I suppose this poem has nothing to do with that kind of distortion. Anyhow. Thought provoking.
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The Commander and the Chief take on the rogue Deep State: the Gunfight at the UK Corral, missing Redcoats in the Nevada Triangle, and nuclear blackmail!
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