highlights of blue,
entering my iris.
a random clanging of bells,
soft, myriad and rubber smells
float ambiguously on my river skies.

a truck and orange bridges,
those tiny queens and kings
on our cards are the
only remembrance we can keep.

we break the fence of
our unwanted childhood.
when we go back to our
years of hide and seek,
we don’t see the truth
of what really happened.



About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
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