hi! a bit of a weird question here, but i remember reading a poem on tumblr about letting a bruised cowboy into your home, i remember in it the pov offered him a drink i think? and i was OBSESSED with it but quickly lost hold of it, its unlikely you reblogged it but seeming that you are a big poem person i was just banking on asking just in case, maybe some outreach too

“At the bottom of her heart, however, she was waiting for something to happen. Like shipwrecked sailors, she turned despairing eyes upon the solitude of her life, seeking afar off some white sail in the mists of the horizon. She did not know what this chance would be, what wind would bring it her, towards what shore it would drive her, if it would be a shallop or a three-decker, laden with anguish or full of bliss to the portholes. But each morning, as she awoke, she hoped it would come that day; she listened to every sound, sprang up with a start, wondered that it did not come; then at sunset, always more saddened, she longed for the morrow.”

“It is your part to kill me, mine to die without flinching.”