stars and soliloquies
1-18-'17
dream me a day gone by,
when the sun didn't refuse to fly,
when we knew, through and through,
that this tepid water could birth
ice cubes with stalagmite ridges.
and tell me now, lowest daughter
that peace can be found above
the volcanic melted-rock fray,
of a newscaster's tenuous reality,
let's dream again.
into the ocean and around the unencumbered cliffs,
let...
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