poems, filed
by John P. Kristofco

a universe of stars, their flicker
in the rainswept grass,
our tiny sun,
others we have never seen,
places we have been
and built
all shut in drawers
like children in a school,
silent until spoken to,
murmuring their mute dissent,
captured for their sin of implication,
sentenced to a life without parole
though they hold their truth
like roses hold their red,
these tapestries of daydreams,
these words we've never said

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