Please Stop with These Old Photos

it’s too much pain to view them in my brain
the brain hungry the eyes always feed it

processes everything as sadness I eat the cosmos
with sight yet fixate on what I have

lost everything a miracle of blood and dust
around me and in the fog I loop December

nights with the dull orange parking lot lights
we walked under to get home and in my hand

there are snapshots of us holding hands
everywhere in the known universe!


(originally published in New Pop Lit, Summer 2020)

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