Stone
Carved
from granite, meteor etched, and baked on the sun.
I
am.
Expect
compassion from a shooting star.
You
do.
Pretend
a smile and tease a laugh, praying for your life.
That’s
you.
Behind
a face that understands, you’re wasting every breath.
That’s
me.
Gloating
all the while you hide.
That’s
you.
Holding
in my palm your hope.
You
guessed it.
Me
JKF
1/21/16
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