Stepsister
Exchanged for the plates they made
and painted with colors representing
springtimes I hardly remember
was the sidewalk way too warm
to walk upon with barefeet
I hardly remember
Scratched through entire lines
of the notes you wrote to me
lines I could never see
which must not be for me to read
imaginably the most precious words
I could never see
The ghost of our old dreams
when he sometimes visits
asks if I still care
for love sung in folk songs
and blue tragic chapters
I still care
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