By Dana Gerringer
under separate skies
walking down the same dark hall
flowers by the window
behind the closed doors
days of this
you remind me of names I haven't heard in a while
images that smile away the fog
and i want to call out to a you I seem to know
though we've never really spoken
when you're around
my shoulders fall and my breath rolls
your voice is familiar that way
do you believe that this is our first time around,
third time learning,
how many do you remember
My guess was you were probably in one of mine
Maybe a sister or a mother or a friend
the never forgotten kind
then the irony in the circle of windows
we would pull from our pockets our origins
mine was a rock before the earth
yours were boots never meant to walk upon it
and a clock that beats the heart of your angel
on the two opposite arms of time
is where the hands are held to the heart
the sun does rise here
into two skies, for two lives
on two opposite arms of this city
but we both hold our hands to our heart
and from dark hallways are reminded
of names not heard in a while


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