Saturday

sacred land

Sometimes I don’t know where I go when I sleep alone
The feathers here, they lie on the floor. Cold. 
The concrete cracks, they connect where we don’t

Here is a space where you can hide 
Save the thoughts in your brain: the happy ones.
Place them in your pocket for another day.
Reach for the sky, touch the mountains,
Don’t wish to die. Days will come and go
Like the waves at the sea salt beach.

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