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Heather Hoffman Jul 2019
I might never stop crying
tissues wadded up in my pockets
sunglasses worn, still
when it’s cloudy and gray.

I smile through it
tears living their life Incognito
but becoming less discreet
time and time again
when provocation rears itself—
more ****** of our fellow humans
defenseless creatures with no voice
killed in carelessness
or deliberately slain for sport.

I cry when I’ve realized
someone I wished to know
is gone, and that time has passed
never the chance to lock eyes
travel to a secret world together.

I’m almost certain
I will never escape the tears—
unrelenting erosion
of love, life, and the possibility
of intuiting another
with random and unexpected
depths of knowing
—still unknown.
Heather Hoffman Jul 2019
My eyes had just barely opened
bedroom window in my line of sight
I watched clouds rush by
like they were late and in a hurry.
Small birds landed on treetops.
I’d need to fight the bright sun
to see them that high
but on the third floor
nearly lateral with this world
I enjoyed their playfulness
so busy at this early hour.
I saw this world holding out
hiding beloved blue skies
behind camouflage-like clouds.
Then I saw Jasmine
creeping across the bedsheets
whiskers tickling my nose
her way of saying
it was time to get up.

— The End —