by Niamh O鈥機onnell
He is a cigarette finished in three pulls
He is the silent appreciation of a joke
He is the tugged hairs of his beard
And he is a furrowed brow
And yet he is a tear wiped away after the Soaps
He is the extra squeeze before releasing a hug
He is the text to ask if all is well
He is the unexpected 鈥淚鈥檓 proud鈥�
Quarryman
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