They tell me time is a thief
I plant surviving memories
for there is no cure for life
as there are no answers.
There is history to my grief
geography too--I wear what
was done to me--uncertainty,
a sadness, the calls to flood.
Someone--carry my disbelief,
it is heavy as a civilization.
I read skies to déjà vu myself
greying--sometimes--silvered.
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