The Cranes Are Flying


My eyes are now sad and dark,
with so many secrets to protect.
Director of Photography
I love you.

and our wounds may one day
It’s hard to breathe.
The clock was fast.

Cranes like ships
stealthily swallow their tears.
She wanders around like a ghost,
some drugs for me

Sailing up in the sky,
from the medicine chest.
to other hospitals.
May our lips benumb.

We deeply feel the grief of those
Over the roofs it’s droning.
You teach history.
Mark visits her occasionally.

I’ll have a beautiful white dress
The flowers… For you.
that sweethearts will never again
Fill the glasses

while death stalks our land.
Words are futile.
In the incubator.
We dreamed of it in the darkest

Let one thing remain in our hearts,
the flowers to whoever they’re for.
White ones and grey ones,
of compound injury


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