poetry critical

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From Here

Oh, but the stars are melting
their colors snap wherever I step
and those tall tangled skeletons
break the sky into tiny sections.
I want to know why you look so long
at the sky, where do you go
when you breathe so deep that my
heart stretches with you. I can't
put the copper crumbs in my palm
back together.
Holding so tight to fragile things,
beautiful things
so say is why you memorize
a hue
when both the sun and the trees
are melting
fading over and through you.

22 Nov 07

(define the words in this poem)

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