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She buys a torn and faded map
All the continents are misshapen
The rivers smudged.Her faith is
inexhaustible. So here I am,
the bridge she will never cross.

The cataratic mapmaker rubbing his
eyes knowing only one route.

I stand on the other side
watch her put on a mask
so we will know exactly

how she feels, watch
her turn away
with map in hand

watch her
as she gets
and smaller.

I am on the otherside,
sitting on a chair,
in an empty room

in an abandoned house,
the windows have been boarded shut.

With my finger I erase
the ring of water
left behind by her glass.

It is true that I loved

her.  I am gaunt
and my ribs are showing.

copyright c.a. leibow 2007
Published in Rat Fink Review
Adriana Makenna Mar 2022
There are no real maps
There are none that are true
You lay the sphere of our bellies down flat
And you face a conundrum of view

So why do we learn they are certain
And why don’t we follow or nose
And how did the sailors of ancient
Find their ways to and back home

Mind map, Google maps, star map
Infinite things trapped in lines
Like drawing a circle round an ant
A taunt from wasted time
AE Oct 2021
It has thorns like roses
and solemn hues
the pinpricks from picking
these flowers have left maps on my hands
that I read when I am lost in the woods
by my childhood dreams
Kamila Jul 2021
It's been awhile since I'm in the road,
A ******* suitcase taken with myself,
I've tried to fit and carry my whole home,
But home's a feeling and a place.

And all the maps and changing routes,
Those random people I have met
Have brought no answers and no clues
To where I do belong and where I'm at.
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2021
There is much about you to remember
Am terrified I might forget
To me appears you already have
Realization that makes me upset

Nothing to stop image from fading
From brain a bit more each day
Picture your face so clearly now
Know time will steal it away

Writing all our memories
The best way to ensure
In some way I'll preserve you forever
The perfect specimens we were

You do not care
Freeze precious snapshots
Because to you they did not matter
If love was a delicate vase
You would purposefully topple it simply to see shatter

Sit down to rest tired feet
Exhausted from leading around in laps
Do not know you're giving me the runaround
You set fire to all the maps
You can repair something broken but you will always have to see the cracks where you glued the pieces back together as long as you live
Payton Hayes Feb 2021
"How did you know where to find me?" She whispered, her voice
cracking under her tears.

"I followed the maps you left in my heart, and I let my feet carry me to you, because I belong to you the way the stars belong in the sky." He said, holding her.

She nodded and more tears rolled off her chin.

"My darling, our stars, the very stars inside of us, go together like the sun and the moon. And I want nothing more than to be by your side, always."

In this moment, she knew she could never again wander away from his embrace.
This poem? prose? was written in 2016.
kmr Dec 2020
I see maps
And roadways
In everything.
In the scars
And all the marks
Upon my skin.
In the veins on my arms,
In the lines on my palms,
And in my eyes
When I stare into a mirror.
But these paths,
Where do they all lead?
Where is it  
I am meant to go?
Where is it
I am meant to be?
chang Sep 2020
πšπš˜πš—πš 𝚒𝚘𝚞 πš”πš—πš˜πš ?
πš’πšŸπšŽ πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽπš πš–πšŠπš™πšœ
πš˜πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšœπš”πš’πš—
𝚜𝚘 πš–πš’ πšπš’πš—πšπšŽπš›πšπš’πš™πšœ πš”πš—πš˜πš 
πš πš‘ich πš™πšŠπš›πšπšœ 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚘𝚞 πš‘πšžπš›πš
πšŠπš—πš πš πš‘ich πš™πšŠπš›πšπšœ πšπš˜πš—'𝚝.
πš’πšŸπšŽ πš–πšŽπš–πš˜πš›πš’πš£πšŽπš
πšŠπš•πš• πšπš‘πšŽ πš›πš’πšŸπšŽπš›πšœ
πš’πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšŸπšŽπš’πš—πšœ
πšŠπš—πš πš’ πš”πš—πš˜πš 
πš πš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ πš’πš πšŠπš•πš• πšŽπš—πšπšœ.
πš’πšŸπšŽ πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽπš πš–πšŠπš™πšœ
πš˜πš— πš’πš˜πšžπš› πšœπš”πš’πš—
𝚜𝚘 πš πš‘πšŽπš— πš–πš’ πšπš’πš—πšπšŽπš›πšœ
πšŠπš›πšŽ πš—πš˜ πš•πš˜πš—πšπšŽπš› πšπš‘πšŽπš›πšŽ
𝚝𝚘 πšπš›πšŠπšŒπšŽ πš’πš,
πš’πš πš πš’πš•πš• πš”πš—πš˜πš  πš‘πš˜πš 
𝚝𝚘 πšŠπšŒπš‘πšŽ πšπš˜πš› πš–πšŽ.
Hammra Sistur Aug 2020
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standing pota the furthest star
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all taht...
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}advice for the soul that is lost
in the carnage of summer memories
melting the years together{
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