Cloaked in spangled banner
On her death day
she spat apple seeds
coughed up the past in her palm
and handed it to me
to plant within the walls
I’m sorting through the stars
that we used to call by the names
of people we once loved, now dead
not gone.
We are the minutes, scattered
The parts that make up
An hour, a day, a life
All of existence
Ticking within
Tickling us
to play.
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Overwhelmed by the air
We can’t breathe between us
Standing six feet apart
Too far for a trust fall
sun polish has gone
streets clogged
by wrappers and newspapers
rain ankle deep
All beings care