Friday, March 29, 2013

choke it out

I am the garden
You the grasses
I flourish in temperate conditions
While you mow yourself down frequently.
And I know this love of ours will get choked out
By your selfishness
And my creation of an imaginary land
Where we
Are not the bird and the fish.
We thought we were at home.
But where would we live?

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