You Can Find Me in the Cracks

On the sidewalk of my childhood, you can
Find me in the cracks where the dust of the past
Had settled and the rough edges smoothed over
With the rains.

The neglected streets seem unapologetic,
Knowing they have suffered more, given more
And gotten less.

In the cracks of a tree trunk, you'll find that youthful song
Of innocence trapped in a time at a brink of tragedy
You can find me in the stagnant air of a residential building
Smelling of old brick and musky cement
There, time stopped in the cracks of the wall
To meet me again in a different form.

What is a crack but a rapture of space and time?
What are memories, then, but collective raptures of space and time?
Yes, find me in the cracks of abandoned matter
Waiting for my day to come
When the bond of knowing and sensing is forever broken.

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