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Looking for September

image credits: Xmel.com
I watch as the blood turns
to flowers
like I turn disappointments
into poetry and exhaling
makes it easier
when you're gone, when
we're all gone

we walked with such haste
and kicked curbs so
stubbornly
that the world stilled
into a painting

we are strangers with
empty faces and closed
fists and the stories lift
from the frame like birds
in blacks and white
migrating across nations
last in a shrill quiet
looking for
September.

-bryam

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