by Ethan Pacholl

—

we used to play in fields

the sweet summer sky

sprawling across the canvas

nothing but space

and ourselves infinitely

our bodies moving

and the sweat pouring

as we danced into the night

—

today, we talk to one another

in the fields of our minds,

planting the seeds of ideas

that would grow and nurture

our lips moving 

like shutters in a windy storm

as we laughed into the night

—

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