TWO POEMS by Natalia Quevedo De La Esprie

Bruised Dreamers The city, I think Is like a scar Ra(z)ised from the supple earth of what was Or What might have been Creeping in between the strangled dreams cradled in her palm History slops from between the fingers down back through cracks in the sidewalk Hosting weeds that only grow with each passing year Slithering across unhealed ground I can map the city Not in streets, but in experiences That I know better than lines on the very palm of my hand In potholes that draw you in, marring The hunger that thrives amongst dilapidated buildings And snapshots...

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