rains
tenderly blot
out our attempts
to remember
the
torn edged⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀moments
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ as sunny days
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
when they were not
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ world,
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ quill up
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ our
⠀⠀⠀                           ⠀sensibilities
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ muddled
⠀⠀⠀⠀    choking sunrises have
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ promise, too