by Francine DuBois
he dated a girl named liberty
who looked a little like the statue
first thing in the morning,
wrapped in the blue-green sheet,
holding back the curtain to look outside,
with that perplexing dream journal
in the crook of her right arm.
he'd like to read her dreams,
but he doesn't dare,
knowing the dangers of misinterpretation
and knowing he could never forget
that which he must.
so he let liberty have her freedom and secrets
in these early morning minutes,
but only because of how the sun
hit her face and the gauziness of the sheet.
forbidden knowledge was too high a price
Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
for his liberty.
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