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The season for dying bloomed
late this year
The season for dying bloomed late this year,
as though waiting for me,
with its fiery crescendo shrouded behind a
canopy of black birds.
Breathe in the crisp cindery isolation
of the cold side of the window
where the echoes of children pass forbidden as
the clouds.
What was it you really spoke of
in your proper and proud mechanical rant on
fluorescent light bulbs;
is it the humility of hellos, goodbyes, and
loving words too painful to speak?
Beneath our differences and distances
toils the blood of all
ceasing unto rebirth with every pulse
from the universal heart
mummified in bandages of suffering.
Come meet me beyond this masquerade of time and
space.
Tatiana Rodeiro was born in Appalachian
Maryland in 1988, currently she lives and writes
in western New Jersey. She has lived in
Nicaragua, Costa Rica, Venezuela, Peru, France,
California, and Florida, establishing close
friendships with leading poets and artists such
as Alan Britt, Nicomedes Suarez-Arauz, Charles
Hayes and Ultra Violet. A certified yoga
instructor; she is also involved in acting,
literature, Brazilian Capoeira dance, African
dance, ceramics, photography, and other art
forms. She is currently a college student. |
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