Sunday, January 22, 2023

young turks

Remember the night 
we stumbled as little kids
across campus
hand in hand
across a little brook,
seated in the leaves. 
The sky opened
and we were secreted 
and one, as if the clouds
bespoke us into being.
Cut, trimmed, and tailored
to fit perfect in this moment.
Our names written 
under a window sill of 
the room where we met.
To capture like a polaroid,
Temporary but like permeance.
We knew we wouldn't return,
that this was a bookmark flimsy
string between pages.
You would go from small town
to big city and I from the urban 
blight to suburbs. 
We knew we would,
Just not how.


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