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 Jun 7 TiredPen
Maryann I
you touched my cheek
as the sun melted into its grave
and I swear the clouds wept,
bleeding copper and violet

your voice—
a frayed lullaby
threading through
my breaking

the world
slowed to an ache
and in that hush,
even the wind knelt

you smiled
like it wouldn’t be the last
but I saw the sky
forget how to breathe.

— The End —