Saturday, September 11, 2010

Verse: untitled

we make names

we fill them
with our memories

we are empty

and that
is when

we make
a silence

and hang it
in the air

nothing stops
but us

not the birds
or their songs

nor the clouds
that assemble

curious crowds

if they cry
it isn't for us

or anyone
at all

and that
is what hurts

more than

that nature
doesn't remember

that day
like we do

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