The stack is too tall
But the mound
Of boards
Of plush
Of change
Can’t touch
The ground
Without withering
It into
A sickly,
Fading,
Dust.
The stack is too tall
But the mound
Of boards
Of plush
Of change
Can’t touch
The ground
Without withering
It into
A sickly,
Fading,
Dust.
We never tattooed ourselves successfully
Because we are pencils tracing our minimal time
Who can only
find a smile through that one
wave of future
in this vast ocean of reality.
At the top of the stairs a little girl stood,
holding her plush giraffe and a blank expression.
Her eyes were locked below at her parents hushed
conversation about the news.
A little girl...
America is not make up of one flag
and should never resort to a statement otherwise.
I saw
many flags
that represent you and me
and US because
we are made up of
gay,
queer,
trans,
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