pain radiates in conversation
hoping to be set free.
her world of hurt blinded by
daffodils and coffee.
the smell of a house built
too close to the bank for
people who can’t even
afford toothpaste.
steps away from familiarity
leading towards two new rooms
where things grow.
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We want to see with other eyes, to imagine with other imaginations, to feel with other hearts, as well as with our own. We demand windows.
1 comment:
i'm ready for you to write here.
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