O is for

OLD


We sat and watched
the sun spill over the canyon’s rim
and thought
the same thoughts
those old tattered flags flying
behind our eyes
the same as our mothers
and the ones we can never know
before there was language to birth
the loneliness into being



Words by Megan
Left image by Christy {Hipstamatic, Vintage Scene, Noir, Superimpose, Snapseed}
Right image by Claire {LoMob, Afterlight, Oggl, Blender, ReTouch}

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