Pomegranate Words

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by Hahna Yoon, 16, College Point, New York

your picture has faded.
the memories of you,
trapped in a box somwhere,
have been recycled,
maybe in Staten Island.

your voice in my mind,
the voice i consider yours
is a faint whisper.
it is you, you haunting me
between reality and dream.

everytime i open the window
you are the person
walking across the street,
before anyone responds
on the other line,

it is you
in dim darkening daylight,
riveting ravaging rainstorms,
sunken sunny shadows,
it is you.

it is you.
it is you when with raindrops,
when twisted autumn leaves fall
and beauty reigns.

it is your touch,
heavy inside my heart,
your touch as we
said goodbye to part.

no matter who it is,
it is you,
your hand i'll be holding
as i lie in bed to die,
it is you

in every smile i smile,
in every love i love
it is you.

your picture had faded,
my memories of you
are withered away,
but you are here,
it is you.

it is you.

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