postcard

Maybe we belong together

looking at the transit

trains with sides

like scuffed chalkboards.

Maybe we belong, reclused.

A single museum gallery

postcard on the

bare wall. Maybe we

belong lost to our

children, inspired by

a new longing.

Maybe we belong

On the window’s edge,

feet on the iron

landing trying to

see with

just one eye, trying to

survive with

just one heart.

Reviews

[. serah .]

-- moving beyond measure... reminds me of how much i struggle to find meaning in the life i lead...