Child inside

Standard

Sometimes the rain is so incessant,
and followed by petrichor,
that your face becomes blurred in the puddles.
And i think i have made you up
Out of the hidden rooms of
vague decades washed and faded –
A pair of used blue jeans-
As the sky was that day.
Soft pastellike.
Child throwing rocks into puddles
To break the mirror,the flashback,
The scents lingering.
Sitting on watery wooden benches
Water above,water under,
Water inside, errupting.
Sometimes i think i have made you up
From the sketches of a ten year old child.
That child takes refuge inside.

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