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Alina Gregorian

Feather on Your Sleeve

 

Thank you for placing the porcelain doorknob in your collection of tangible objects. It
has been a pleasure sweeping feathers off your sleeve. You sleep in the timbers of night. I
have but two molecules to gather in the galaxy. When you find the poem that swept your
soul into a forgotten atom. Forget that line. When you place together clues as to why I
may never be in love with you. I sat on rocks and threw golden horseshoes in the space
in which you sat. Were you looking for me then? Was anybody aware of the conceptual
difference you made in the lines of my red and blue painting? This I say as a way to forge
the neglected planet on which I stand.

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