Every morning the sun sets.
I wake and kiss the aching ground goodbye. I know, and everything is changing. None of this will last. Have you ever noticed how on long drives, the moon never moves? Here, in the same room in the same house in the same town–– long ago, you must have been a child. Now each memory is shot through with golden light, each conversation begins with you tucking a farewell under your tongue. The thing about beauty is its impermanence. The thing about life is that it ends. Everyone wants to leave something behind, so we looked at the stars and called them holy, we drew red ochre handprints on cave walls reaching towards the future in a throbbing symphony of breath singing we are here; we exist; we live and love over and over and over again until.
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AuthorNathan Lee's poetry and prose. More of my work can be found on my Instagram. Archives
March 2020
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