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If Only


If only

Life was resolved

In small moments of

Celluloid Clarity,

Where breakfasts and brunches and sad little lunches

Had small interludes, where we lived our lives

Where we were caricatures or men and women of certain types

All our flaws, all our smiles, all our little hopeless dreams

Would be resolved in time for dinner, with space left for small snacks


If only

Life was resolved

In tiny trespasses along

Alliterating allusions,

Where time and pain and all those little hurts

Would pass in a montage, set to silent soundtracks

Where ghost-quiet nights were woven together into magical quilts

Held together by the threads that were unknotted from latticed shrines

When the invisible returned from shadows of memories, to be whole again


If only

Life was resolved

In small moments of

Empathic epiphanies,

Where prayers and amulets and objects of unverified provenances

Had the power, to turn fireflies into starry nights

Where our messy little truths, no longer collided with our fictitious selves ‘

All our poems would find their own little ends, to wrap our stories with neat little bows


If Only.




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