Forgetting
Sprinkles stem into violent gusts,
A digression rockets into the atmosphere
where vapors twirl and dress up like dreams,
Scenes in suitcases,
pockets full of sad times to retaste on bright days,
Below the crust hot tears cry,
longing for a mirror of yesterday,
Steaming lava swims between locks that conceal tides of sentiments,
Red shoes hide in the corners of dreams,
Cowering shadows of the past,
Tight grip upon the small bird
while urging it to fly away,
An eraser never completely clears it's page,
A hope,
perhaps relief will be accompanied by tender growth,
when the erosion of the mind will produce gleaming crystals,
clear of haunting,
clear of memories.
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