"rapa nui"
there will
come a day when air will no longer be a deciding factor
and my lungs
will be content to breath the ashes of every business card
to ever bear
my name -
and no such
thing as awful poetry or guilty pleasure
because who
can watch the surf crash in rapa nui
and gulls
scream across the salmon-skin dusk
and kick
stones down desert roads
and feel
guilt?
-mj
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