She came out of the air, a rosebud trampled into the dust of the sky
the bird flew like it walked along an invisible ribbon
Pigeons used to be doves, long ago
I see them sitting on the roof of the steeple
sunning themselves
when they land
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Soaking up the rain and whipping spit of the waves, as he stood next to the ocean of my memory, a fire hydrant in a red windbreaker, glaring...
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"Well...that was dramatic." I didn't know what he meant until I saw the ink spilled everywhere and the moths in her hair like ...