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John Destalo Oct 2020
I was happy
walking in a

drizzle
words
dripping

from my lips
I was alone

making up
a conversation

I would have
with you

when we met
I would know

it was you
because you

would be happy
walking in a

drizzle
words
dripping
John Destalo Oct 2020
she is grounded
what is left of
her little yellow
wings won’t lift her
I cry when I
see her run
across the sharp rocks
she jumps and each
time she lands
she cuts her toes
leaving droplets
of blood
that spread leaving
a trail of red
that she hopes no one
ever follows
John Destalo Oct 2020
we take turns

writing down
our secrets

we memorized
the pattern

for creating
a perfect flight

we press
down hard

on each fold

we find a place
where we can

be alone when
the air is calm

so each flight
ends safely

in our hands
John Destalo Oct 2020
with every part
she plays

she pulls me in

a lightness to
her depth

I could breathe
in her darkest

matters

she never
blends in

she never
stands out

she becomes
each life

she plays

to every life
she lives
John Destalo Oct 2020
your secrets
are not buried

beneath rubble
they are right

there for anyone
to see

anyone with the
right eyes in

their mind

to see what is
right in front

of them
John Destalo Oct 2020
I have this mind

it is too heavy
to float

I sink in thought
and drown in

theories or dreams

weaving equations
or explanations

depending if I
fancy numbers

or words

sometimes my mind
is so heavy

I can’t get out
of bed for days
John Destalo Oct 2020
with the tightest
of grips I hold
on to what was
become a statue
no one wants
to visit or clean
so that
all the hardness
holding me
together
turns me brittle
and like an old
leaf meeting
two feet
I break apart
and dissolve
into dust
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