has fallen
apart
and you are
lying in the wreckage
you are
gazing up past
broken
teeth and jutting bones
of
bashed-in homes
that don't
remember
whose they
were
you are
breathless on your back
as cracks
of fragment sky
decline
your definitions
technicolor
clouds are sprouting
flaming
aging gray
threatening
to wash your dusted face
in
blister-and-mutation rain
yet your
mind has settled silent
in the dust
of every thought
except
they are
so beautiful
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