hope is a generous bird
lending its wings
and who else would,
who, i ask you
hope comes
with a helicopter,
but so does fear.
helicopters come
with guns and roses
hope is not a butterfly
and love is a tale
to be told and
to listen to,
not to be written
all these planes
fill the vastness
of leaden skies,
sometimes they crash
and memory is this way,
it remembers pain
better than joy.
this is a rule for survival
though we cannot líve
without oblivion.
there is no presence
without forgetting
all.
all.
I am here.
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