SNOWGLOBES

i saw one thousand pictures of your face over the course of time and it looked to me more like a history book
a story of massacre and rebirth, of the human condition, of pushing through when faced with unparalleled conditions
men with swords and guns and love and heartache white horses frozen on battlefields redcoated troops caught in the snow
i watch as your hair changed from spring to winter, from summer to scorched earth
and there imprisoned in your eyes was a cold war
nuclear missiles aimed at the moon
and deeper yet was a shaggy olive green rug and on it the ghost of a child fascinated
swallowed completely by a snowglobe
and in the snowglobe was a city and in the center of that city was an apartment building
where in the basement a boy sat on his phone where he saw
one thousand pictures of your face over the course of time and it looked to me
more like a history book

i am you and you are me

COPYRIGHT BRICE MAIURRO 2016

Author: brice maiurro

Denver poet. Author of Stupid Flowers, out now through Punch Drunk Press.

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