what is this rush

broken clouds and a broken body

falling

just like that

stomach gone

to be filled with earth rushing upward

like a fucked up cradle

killing with its misplaced comforts

mimicry of home

but the windows open onto dark streets

and the body no longer responds

not awake

not asleep

just staring

where familiar feet once walked

and no longer do

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Check out some poetry from Denver’s local poets at thepoets.co

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