Ashes and Dust
Today the clouds
are like ash
filling every nook
in the sky
our history buried there
the pet names and promises
we never should have made
the stories we might have
rendered better if we’d
used a different vocabulary
and so the days
are a slow fade
like our faces in a photo
left too long in the sun
losing their clarity bit by bit
a piece of bleached paper
collecting nothing but dust
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