Kyle Emory

Here’s the scoop:
the sand surrounds the sea castle,
diapers pad my seating, shovel in hand.
Digging my hole, tooth glimmers in the sun
my job is to play. Laughter and joy.
Learn the feeling of love.

In many ways, today is the same:
Hanes replace Huggies, sand all around.
Egg bites and coffee, my reward for playing
to ensure no hole is dug. My smile bright
playtime ahead of job. Peace and comfort.
This is the feeling of love.

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Images flood
suppressed beneath the ocean floor,
no tears follow. Indignant

Aye, the fury erases
tender memories. Rage transforms
you, the end insight.

Kindness built from wrath,
the most dangerous type of love.
I fought for you. Now me.

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Sun radiates off my bare skin,

hunched over the morning begins.

Patience is not like the movies,

though as I sit warm rays soothe me.

Home-brewed coffee fills up my cup,

cheer tastes rich though less than a buck.

These words this moment is now ours,

description unlocks our powers.

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