staring at the faded velvet sky,
I wondered why you cried.
what you saw,
that I couldn't see
is your heart a precious flower?
you wilt
at the first sign of beauty and sorrow.
am I stone,
that my breath is not stolen away
by the very same?
- - -
Written for my brother, who cries at everything.
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"Write with our backs to the wind and our faces to the hard, bleaching sun."