A Different Angle
- Chadwick Ahn
- Jan 10, 2018
- 1 min read
It was like looking through a used lens for the first time;
From a different angle Picasso spoke to me, beauty emerged.
I can’t believe the scribbles in the hardwood floor,
Nor can I believe I’ve never seen it before.
Critters rain down from the orange in the sky
And stack like old pennies for you to stand on—
A quarter worth more than the ground she walks upon.
Pupils widen as stocks soar
To the point where your worth is more than I can afford.
A string slips through my fingers, and I watch
The balloon run towards something else in the clouds
Circumference, your eye, permanent in mine.
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