Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Singing Valentine

The day grandma died she
wasn’t singing Summertime
like forty years ago
putting you to sleep
she was breathing with the moon
the whole day to inhale
the whole night to let it go
it’s slow at first becoming
a figment of our imaginations
beginning to live inside
someone else’s organelles and eyes
or else it’s sudden and in a flash
you see the true reality of things
the cruel illusion of the world
so devastating and amazing
it echoes in your next several lives

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