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by Luke Park

Your gaudy fashion and easy gait

clashed with your mind like magic and physics.


I'd tell you about the pills I'd take, modern day chemists

your parents would give you ginseng. I can't tell which is better or worse.


You'd tell me it was easy to bite the apple, some simple sleight of hand

but we both knew the finesse of it, like dancing knives, juggling fire.


We'd exchange our poetry, our artworks, pulling rabbits from hats

and snakes from our tongues. What we said I will never truly know.


But when I'd suffer, when the land of the cross and the spiral helix met

a thousand years of pain and history rose, spirits waving "hello."


And when those ghosts waved, when the serpents died

the unknown truth herself was conversing.

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