View
dawn
the other side of the mirror. It's too cold
history. There are so many fireflies
molten
straw in the mouth,
the time wounds.
I do not know where to bend,
invent what streams to quench
winds hitting the bones of my back.
If there is a lake, if there is no tomorrow
true
and wet my tongue could
gray in his memory still. Tired
,
to fall, and no hands
that can support your body
sepia, faded with grief
of knowing you are alone and forgotten.
not cry. Let
here walking, standing, eyes
we cross the wires. Someday
drink light that life
juicy
of beautiful buildings,
Sheets airy and strong children.
Weep no more, love, do not miss
more tears, which is much
thirst and so little water that remains.
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