the heart is young

by on March 4, 2015 :: 0 comments

She made you grab the last jacket on the store rack
the one with the multi-colors
the one she thought represented paradise
the one that will never bring her back
to you
to then
to what it was
to when gods rubbed elbows with you
back when intersections were more innocent
when the cradle robbed the grave
when the spirit woke the dead
you were used to this
used to losing its trace
of that ghost
who said it knew you
you lent it
your letter-man jacket
it made more sense
back then.

© 2015

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