unnamed verse #3


I am a memory

part of the gross substance in McDonald’s leachate,

a fragment of invisible dust in towels for-sale,

a slither of light on forgotten hollow,

a collection of tiles

broken and swept —

sidewalk trash,

a pair of hooded eyes

armed with colorful maps

on sun-kissed hands.

I am a memory

I fade, I come

I long for you

meet me once again,

when you walk the unpaved,

dusty streets of Fuente Osmeña circle.


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