Julie Barbour
Photo: kcdstm
I heard someone sing:
To love is to bury
and at the time
misunderstood,
my mind buried
in the building of music
between us.
Now, in retrospect,
(and there is so much),
dirt surrounded me,
kept me still.
To your questions:
weren’t you good enough,
weren’t we—
my only answer
is my body moving freely,
unearthed.
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