Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Parade


PARADE

I understand what this sentence is trying to say.
I empathize with each of its letters and its small but valiant
full stop.
I believe in its I.
I love its spaces.
They are little animals to me
Not yet extinct. Whispering.
Between one thing and another
you and me.
This sentence is my little world

for now.
Who am I
outside, looking in?
What was here before I?
What will be left when I is gone?
The parade is over.

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