Photo by Donna Mccoy on Unsplash

Variations on a theme.

The taste of freshly cut
pear in the mouth, the
off tune of seagulls by the pier.

The swirl of wine
in a green glass bottle.

In this poem, we are
going, back to a time
when we did not know what it took
to hurt one another.

People strolling down the sidewalk,
a hustle of seagulls fighting over a fry.
Two right angles
seated on the same bench.

I am not looking at you,
I am not.

All birds are the same to me,
all feather and chaos
in flight,
beaks scissoring to cut,
their throats all filled with protest.

I do not remember why
I remember any of this,
I do not know why
you don’t.

It’s a simple matter, really,
a scene from a time
one could
as better,
but, for now,
has resigned into a box
in the back of a dusty storeroom
for which the door is always kept shut.

Freewriting Explanation: Every day, Valen shall use 5 minutes to write completely unprompted and uninterrupted, letting the words lead the way. There is no end purpose to each piece, but rather, the pieces are allowed to develop naturally in their own way. The pieces are then uploaded without edits.

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