Blackout Poetry- Ash
Eye contact is
grey and clear.
I don't hear
screaming...
then
two small children
fidget
and speak in
fortifying walls...
and then
my lips are parched
and I can't swallow.
I marvel at them,
like two white doves
waiting to take flight.
I tilt my head
to see
flesh
and bone
and ash.
2/21/2021
Credit: Someone You Love Is Gone by Gurjinder Basran, Page 9
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