I re-read the poems I wrote about you
and “us”
A while ago, back when I still believed
in “us” and that
our plant could still grow;
Ahh..
Alas! The soil grew infertile.
And I wish I still could write them lines
echoing from my bones and my soul
trying to revive us
and the butterflies which flew
but my heart feels at the heart of the desert
a field where the roses don’t grow
–not even with their thorns; their seeds would simply thaw,
where butterflies have no place to call home
where love turned its back on me
and the lost cause I’ve tried to make a norm
~eamipoe
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