generations

Could keep past the humectant sleeves of old coarse bitterness
That reach across the seams and blur the miseries we found in each other’s
Happy eyes.
But how do we survive when the cold wind was all that kept our hearts beating?

The coast of generations, pile upon pile, hurry the waves to moan:
‘Don’t take too much but what can pass for common nightmares that tear
The starry sky
And then leave what you can for those that seek their fortunes told in reverse.’

Here, withdraw, hold still before the sea breeze blows you away
Along the lines of derelict moonshine that occupies what it cannot own.
Here, come stand with me tonight and I’ll tell you all the dreams
I’ve never had.

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