We are refuges from the same war,
I know the smell,
the grit in my teeth.
Our eyes have clouded from
the thick heavy smoke
rising from the empty streets.
These broken stones we walk on
lead us away
and forward
toward some place
green and full of growth
Dust and the taste of blood,
are still in my mouth,
still in yours.
You take my hand
and I am shocked at the warmth.
You are real
and here beside me.
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