Tuileries Gardens,

Paris (France)

We Never Know


He danced with tall grass 
for a moment, like he was swaying 
with a woman. Our gun barrels 
glowed white-hot. 
When I got to him, 
a blue halo 
of flies had already claimed him. 
I pulled the crumbled photograph 
from his fingers. 
There’s no other way 
to say this: I fell in love. 
The morning cleared again, 
except for a distant mortar 
& somewhere choppers taking off. 
I slid the wallet into his pocket 
& turned him over, so he wouldn’t be 
kissing the ground.

(Poem found on PHOTOS BY ME.

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décembre 19, 2017