
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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