By: Shelbi Henny
I was hanging on broken branches scavenger massively turning corners labeling indiscretions creativity to manifest in perceptions loving the columns that separate the talent portrayed to me as antidotes that face the flamboyant trinkets we exchange devouring this white lie that runs the valleys of pure water piercing the ear drums and splitting dysfunctional homes leaving me open choking on hope crafting my syllables to sentences of I love making it familiar to part yet memory drawing to be close foolish to read the obvious backwards as my heart rode forward with you steering in slow motion speeding with the city in our rearview
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