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Everything that's ever been said about clouds


by Dulce Maria Menendez


Is not enough. 
There are 
not enough
words 
enough
sighs
to describe 
a cloud. 

Not enough 
similes,
not enough 
metaphors.
The thesaurus
coughed up
a feather.

And what if 
a cloud 
were to be
slowly moving 
over me on a rainy day
like a puff of smoke
as I think about the 
first time I held
a robin's egg
blue chalk
in my hand as
a black cloud
of a nun said
to draw the sky?

And as I smeared
the chalk across
the paper it made
little clouds of
blue which 
fell around
me like rain.

And what if
I had never 
seen that blue
again until
the first
time you
looked
at me?







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