Gravity makes a call again | the same law for
airliners and snowflakes, rest | your lips against my lips, it’s | July

20 September | How we make a shape from falling | Do you recall, rain being blown to the west, startled | into a sentence? | Wreckage, scattered for miles, spring | blossoms of pale pink, I will remember | yesterday forever | Never make it | to safety | through these riots | I am only | on my side | no other | Why | change it? | On this day, watching isolated | leaves drift through our human eyes | keeping to their separate ways | moving to their different laws


from the series fleeting pixel (series of 1,000 poems, 2012–2016)

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