Learning to Fly
I knew your face
and your mother's;
knew your eyes,
your smile.
Her hair's gone gray.
You remembered me
but I guess I've made myself a display.
Forty-five minutes of baring bones
and somehow that voice
changed things.
I have so little to give the world.
My guts
are just
made of poisonous things
but there I was,
smiling.
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