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  • Fauze Hassen

december 25, 1994

(shattered)


flute sounds

suburban photographs

she smells like coffee

I smell like gasoline

my eyes are open and brown

mostly forgettable


cancer was cured

as children danced under the rain

thieves surrendered

towers and antennae collapsed


the galaxies moved closer

and we carried them in our guts

and brains and hearts

and she opens up,

her colours are new colours

they have no names


the end approaches

we all taste the storm

the good memories

and nothing remains


*from Yellow Street Light Madness, Fauze Hassen, 2018.

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