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Wishes This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.


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Warmth in air reminds me
Of your fingers bruising down the
Braille of my spine, when you trapped
my wrist,
Held my fingers hard against
your pulse, sometimes I wake up and hear
the sound of it in my ears.
There are things I can leave behind, like
Long winters and cracked lips and
this broken umbrella
That leaves me drenched every damn time
it rains,
But not you.

I think of all the places I have scattered
The dreams that I used to have
Dandelions and stars and blown-out candles,
Pennies, eyelashes, fountains and
Gutters,
Wonder if I am too old now to ask for
them back,
Too empty of that thing that a person must have to make
A wish and really mean it.

I used to think that if I loved you enough white sheets
Would become white again,
That all rivers would lead to the ocean
and that
trains would run on time, but I have
found myself
waiting on a lot of trains

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.




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This article has 2 comments. Post your own!

J.A.L. said...
today at 1:17 am:
In my opinion, that last two lines feel a bit weak, but I also like it, it gives the poem an honest effect, like the poet is speaking directly to the reader. I love your writing, this poem was enchanting. 
 
J.A.L. replied...
today at 1:17 am :
*the last two lines My bad, haha!
 
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