May As Well

by Anna Jalali


May As Well It may as well have been a forest fire
Or the browning of an apple.

Sometimes dreams reach out the window
Just to get caught in chipped paint peels.

but the past lives on as a silent breeze.
everything that could have been
weaves itself into
second chances scattered like leaves
deep inside the soil that weeps bitter dewdrops
seeping into our feet
as we walk away.

We may as well have never met
Or ever tried to speak.

There is comfort in ruins - rest and release
Where what we forget grows wildly, unseen.

Here sits our story, browning
The pages of our selves, turning in the breeze
like daydreams or sheets folded away on a bit of green.


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