by Sara Paul
I study an atlas. The
task is not in vain.
There is silence in
the question I ask many
pages of a book.
This awakening
rips the dust off eyes. Fills
the mouths of children.
One day to hope for
the perfect Map. A planet
in the universe,
gently spinning on
it's axis. Well greased and
smooth is its push for-
-ward. Never hurting
like this. again. Pray spirits
be free to fly home.
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