Sometimes pieces break
before the needle is threaded all the way through,
like popcorn strung sentences.
He sounds and moves words that give me goosebumps
and make them go away
again.
Rings on the right pinky and ring finger,
he can fist bump from the soul.
He'll never be lost under the sun.
Breath going in and out like everyone does.
Tormented like on elementary school playgrounds
mounted on a calendar to never
be forgotten, but marked
of that preserved time for when
someone thought less of him...
~Tina Meeks
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