chester maynes

The funeral of a
kiss is lonely.
We mourn in the
silence of the
air. Standing like
frozen scarecrows
and the birds are
no more.

Stupid clocks tick
extra minutes and
we cannot wait
the day to end.
Bored. We are the
clever scientists
inside the jar of

I choose the East,
you go the West.
Our first parting
is our last meeting.
We chase our own
dreams. Breaking,
this is our


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