Alphabet Soup Minuscule

J.C. Scheff

Dust There After


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                In the hurricane, and the flood thereafter,

I wish you were the ceiling that would come down on me.

                Breaking me of this pattern.

You won’t. Because.

               My infrastructure is more than brass tacks and bolts. It is,

More than the pyramids.

               Built of stone and sweat,

Of many iron hands that made me. Me.

              I am only the dust left after.

 

Joelly. C. s-Poet

 

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4 thoughts on “Dust There After

  1. Nicholas Gagnier on said:

    Adore this.

  2. wow. such a good find.

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