Data Collector

Data Collector

I am a catalogue of souls, your souls,
Of snapshots and moments, the millisecond when
Divine comedy tugged at your lips,
And ripped back my eyelids,
when we found common ground
Simply sitting on the same staff,
Admiring Ja Rule, ya Discovery,
Of trenches dug under irises and your dreams –
Spoken by a tongue tap dancing on oaks,

I read the songs of lives lived and lies lived,
I enter your stories into a catalogue of sorrows,
You drowned, you deported, you detained,
Down the margins, I flea with you frantic,
Though bullet riddled buildings and bombed out squares,
Past that house, once yours, now his and –
I carry with me your heavy hearts,
And your hopes and dreams for tomorrow.

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