Pictures
a contemporary poem about memory, mortality, and the pictures that were taken before tragedy
The twin towers must have been beautiful
in a world yet to be torn apart
I wonder if someone looked up at them
and dreamed of heaven
they must have taken pictures
the pictures preceded the fire
hugging your soft but warm flesh
in a bathtub alone
the water is hot but ankle deep
you look red but you’re shivering
the water holds you still
love the world a little
the grass on the side of the road
green and fleshy, it shines just right
it’s beautiful
it really is
and I hope the glass doesn’t darken the skin
you’re red and the water hugs you like dad
I feel cold, very cold
I love it so
my heart beats through me
and I like the sound
if you want to learn to write poetry like this ^
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