M.I.N.E.

We never walk at sundown.

We could live better on this planet.

You hold your dark eyes
and I hold mine too.

If everyone stays inside their house
and guards their possessions
then we’ll call this planet “Earth”.

You have a forehead made of stone.
I remember the scent of stone.

A solar star burns
and
mortals go capturing its light,

but we could live better on this planet

so I guess
you’ll have your possessions
and I’ll have mine.

Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin