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About
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I AM THE WORDS I WRITE

I come from the corner where dreams rebound,

gate to the grandest dream.

Martyrs, murderers, saints,

they march in a file,

they march to the gate.

Flanked by peace and steel and blood,

by tide, by mountain,

they march in pursuit of the dream. 

They jam against the fence face-first

and their lament echoes, bounces

through the valley of matorral,

orphans of dignity

bellowing for their mother's womb. 

The border embraces her children,

the corner, the gate, the fence,

martyrs, murderers, saints.

They march in a single file,

chanting, pleading

to be chosen by fate. 

My PROJECTS

The Gifted

A Thousand Wonderful Things

My Books
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