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Poets coming into Rochester,
Welcome to the perfect poetic city!
We're dark in November,
Blinding in May.
Sleepy streets,
Winding roads.
Dinner at a diner,
Welcome to your second home, it's a winner's city for sure.
If you ever come to Rochester I suggest you come in the summer or fall. Stay up late and wake up early, eat at the diners (not the chain ones), visit the pier down at Seabreeze, and make sure to get an air bnb so you can have a backyard fire late into the night.
Human
started lives
with joy of hands

Ten fingers
are making poems
with sorrows of life.
Its the last time
Your face is fading away
Slowly, and now it almost gone
Once more I see you when I close my eyes

Soft sounds that used to be your voice
Slowly turning into an etarnal void
I long for you
Clinging to what little of you that's left

You're nothing but a memory
A memory that will soon be forgotten
It's like I'm losing you all over again
But this time you're gone forever

Once more I see you when I close my eyes
I slowly let go of you as I say my last goodbyes
The rest of you fading away into the skies
It's love

Yes, all we're looking for is love from someone else

A rush

A glance

A touch

A dance

A look in somebody's eyes

To light up the skies

To open the world and send it reeling

A voice that says I'll be here

And you'll be alright


I don't care if I know

Just where I'll go

'Cause all that I need's this crazy feeling

A rat-tat-tat on my heart

Think I want it to stay
She was a girl with oceans inside her,
waves made of dreams too fragile to hold.
But the world is indifferent —
it pulls, it drowns, it takes,
leaving salt in the wounds it never cared to see.
Her tides fought back, rising, crashing, begging to be enough,
until exhaustion felt like peace.
Now she floats—not sinking, not swimming—just there.
Rivers run like grief,
never pausing to remember—
the stones sink and wait.
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