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Love is blue hues peppering away
Tom Berry Jul 10
She fears planes
because she’s always been scared to fly.
Tom Berry Jul 10
I am he that needs redemption—
Does the Earth know exemption?
A boy and his pen I dream of books.
A boy and his pen I dream of quasar.

Now redemptions on your mind when you think about me.
Tom Berry Jul 9
I was ready to love you in white trim
You found delight in embarrassing me.

You taught me that night—
I’m not him.
These pages I overwrite
with words I whip to curse you
like a purple gallinule
may you never soar.
Tom Berry Jul 9
He wasn’t a flower
they were too exquisite. (although he wanted to be, so he could make people sneeze)

                                 He wasn’t a cypress
they were too resilient. (otherwise he would have cracked the concrete)

                                 He was born a ****.
(A yard reckoning wild black mamba)
In the ground, he felt smothered,
digging to a world he never knew.

                                 He was an anomaly
someone who no one desired to water.

                                 He was a problem,
                                 a pest,
                                 something like
                                 Fruit flies in a Florida summer
                                
He was a stain,
                                 a blood smear on an angel white Kleenex.
                                
He was a pain,
                                 a sturdy lump in her kidney the doctor had to explain.

He dug                     through boggy dirt,
                                 carving away.

He dug                     through swampy mud
                                 while the sky hiccupped tears,
                                 constantly, continuously making
                                 a path that he could climb.

He wanted—freedom
                                 a love amongst the elegant lantana.
Inspired by an old friend

— The End —