yemmerich
ALL WORKS Poetry (1) Prose (5) Photography (1)
About me Friends (3)

29 september 2012

prose

yemmerich
yemmerich

pa

You used to march
in lines of eight
and tried to hold the stars through the smoke
from all the burning bodies
 
You collapsed underground
dreaming of lips and above
letters marked 'to my love'
rearranged 'to my last'
 
You were no match for those tanks
 

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