Category: Poetry
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You are everything I want to know.
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we backup vocalists shake the asphalt top flight harmonies
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sounds just like a baby sighing in his sleep
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our connection Over Whatsapp is spotty as the internet is eaten by sharks
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never crossing Halsted Street into strange, unfamiliar neighborhoods because I know the boundaries of my world.
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the steam and gas locomotives still Hiss as if they’re remembered
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We rose to the forest wishing us away, asking us to go back to America.
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I remember on the bus there is a word for a feeling
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most of my friends never met their fathers.
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a century ago, father told me there was an old man who had the habit of telling stories
