Saturday

snake in the grass.

dreaming tree, dead roses, eyeballs.
black skies surround us as they put grandpa to rest.
rest in little pieces, the world will still spin.
decomposing our thoughts, while our bodies sleep.
numbers equal freedom, and red doors
open the future to dreamers.
period, means don't go any further.
and listen to her voice.
before you enter a history book,
know where you came from.
the handmade spoon is at my grandma's,
and the way she sees it is through her yellow eyes.

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