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It Could Happen

One day we’ll meet
(maybe on the street,
or in a garden park,
or one of those bars you loved so much)
and I think we’ll recognize each other
(between wary glances
attempted to be hidden behind hair we’ve both let grow
too long)
and perhaps it’s raining,
or maybe the sun is beating down on us
making us regret, as always, our decision to wear black,
but we’ll smile in the most civil manor,
and perhaps exchange a few words
(who knows what these words
will be for sure)
and either life will continue on,
two paths leading apart from this crossroads we let separate us,
or life will continue on
as one long, winding road
that we’ll stumble our way down

Worlds Apart

The skies here are so much more passionate
than they are back home.
The pinks and reds streak the sky
as if being near an art school
allows it to steal our colors to paint its clouds
like a careless child not being watched by his parents.
Even though the blinding lights of buildings
scare the stars away from our sights
the change is worth it.
This sunset, stollen from a fantasy scene,
was enough to keep my heart from longing 
for the crystalline sparkles that covered my old home’s sky,
and filled me with the comfort
that difference is not all bad.

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