mEMORIALrEQUIMmIND

Douglas Caraballo Mahairas
1 min readJul 28, 2023
Photo by Kevin Woblick on Unsplash

A poem

The night lays like a blanket over the skin of the earth where the blue is something you wish you could taste. This is what it was like to teen in the suburbs — the shades of that sky resonated for those four summers where the foundations of the self were lain. Back further. The city — black were the winter nights where the radiator hissed cat like beneath an open window. Black was the night and by day my hair would…

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