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Time Machine

Then you lay your body down, eyes looking up, your fingers pointing to the sky. “You’re pointing to a star?” I asked. “No, that’s a planet. Stars shine, planets don’t,” you replied.

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A Birthday Poem: About A Woman I Know

A birthday poem for a good friend of mine: “She will take you out from the fake city lights to places where sun looks bigger than apartments and malls. Men, you can’t drag her down, because she is stronger than your bones.”

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His Secret Talk

I love your energy it bursts whenever you’re talking about the last book you read or when you sip your cold black coffee while writing your poem A poem without rhyme, yet remains beautiful “You’re a great poet,” there I told you. “I’m not,” you replied. “I am a lost soul. A noise that resonates in silence. I am the…

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Let’s ramble. Just ramble. Over a cup of tea and bring me closer to your fantasy tell me bedtime story or the glimmering lights in the city you know, this is my plea.

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