the
life of our past bring forth these
disappointed
sunflower displays;
we died
young because we
missed each other
through
the sand. dusted
wings and we
still
became our enemies we still
ordered
out of our chests and closed
off
tears with our cardboard hands.
planted
glass walls and these
leaves
cannot breathe out;
they
are inside these acronyms
and
each robot rain drop is
magical
because we touched
it
while it fell.
