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Literature Text
Anticipating the future
Jeopardizing the now
Compromising progress
Horse behind the plow
Determined to shape a vision
We haven’t seen yet
Rushing to trade our true promise
For apologies and regret
Blinding partisan agendas
Substitute Law for inspiration
Leaders jockey for control
Choke hold on the nation
Saturation and subjugation
Talking points achieved
No need for concern
Free choice has been relieved
Jeopardizing the now
Compromising progress
Horse behind the plow
Determined to shape a vision
We haven’t seen yet
Rushing to trade our true promise
For apologies and regret
Blinding partisan agendas
Substitute Law for inspiration
Leaders jockey for control
Choke hold on the nation
Saturation and subjugation
Talking points achieved
No need for concern
Free choice has been relieved
![[OPEN] AI adoptable character - 1956](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/b54a7957-cf6d-4b39-b7fb-06a385ce4de8/dg2kwvz-95d839da-dc8c-40c7-ad22-cb94a92e6301.png/v1/fill/w_332,h_250,q_70,strp/_open__ai_adoptable_character___1956_by_ai_ursa_dg2kwvz-250t.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.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.PlX50vmu9gLyiSEXqsvH2nJWmElB9UL-55GBz9lEE90)
Literature
scattered
We leave pieces of ourselves in the corners
Of bookshelves, stuck between the pages
And in the hand painted wooden bowl
Collecting dust and spare change.
My fingers grazed a fragment
When I saw a photograph of you today
And my lungs caught on the memory
Of the first words you said to me
Lingering like a ghost breath
In the soft curve of my earlobe.
(“Hi, mind if I ask you
Some questions?”)
I hid inside the rain to drown out
The sound. The wet grass stuck to my toes
And the droplets rolled down
Over the shirt that my mom told me
Makes me look like I’ve got a chip on my shoulder.
(She thought her rebel was a princess
Bu
Literature
The point of it all
The city has streets that sink into the other side of the world.
Amidst their ruins, dead calluses are slowly petrified
in the ghosts of shoe soles and former tires.
Mediums claim the echoes of former pedestrians
weeping for their dislodged joints and lost groceries
still thunder in the depths
below the stapled smiles of the mayor
that shine on every wall above the lunar imitation.
Meandering, the life crashes with weary ears
and the map just jumps off a window
as the former arrow
rips off its point,
just like
this poem written
with a prehistoric leg
ten powerless knuckles
and a fruitless voice.
Literature
and even so, you stayed
I taste rain on your lips
and I know you’ve been
writing poetry again.
I breathe into the touch
of your fingers
cascading in a soft scale
down the cage of bones
around my heartbeat.
you kiss me
knowing
the colors that drift
in my mind
like water beneath
all the bridges that were
burned for me
and you stay.
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