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Bicentennial: a season 8 poem

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  • Bicentennial: a season 8 poem

    I still catch glimpses
    Of days in clear sunshine

    A promise to travel to Istanbul
    A shop full of jars and Giles
    Every single answer to my SATs
    The 59th and final President
    Of the United States
    My mother’s funeral

    Futures moved forwards
    For a while
    I was one person
    Just Willow

    Now I am legion
    Stitched together
    With veins and magic

    I remember in fractures

    A walk in the park
    The boys who wanted you
    Their faces turned
    Your wound
    Its bullseye spreading

    Ripples through time
    This is the edge
    Where the waves break

    I kick dust
    Over dead faces
    The scraps
    Of what I was

    Not going grey
    I’ve grown into the black
    Of ancient fossil fuels
    I am a witch
    So I will burn

    The mirror cracks
    Just this pledge remains
    The only straight line of self
    As the world and I go mad

    I will warn her
    We will take it back

    I am too old to love
    Last edited by Wolfie Gilmore; 08-08-08, 05:07 PM.

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