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The Sky Is him

By Kingsley Metelus for BCN #135

May 29, 2021

He sits there, watching the Sky

And how the clouds seem to waddle through the sunset

Moving as delicate as the Waltz

Fading away like ink...

At the edge of a sentence

Or a forgotten memory

Until the sun peaks a beauty that is only temporary

See, the Sky breaks boundaries

Creating an illusion of something more than life can handle

It swallows the sun

When it needs to be cold

And breaths fire when feeling hot-headed.

The Skies have emotions

And on the days I heard the Skies scream

I screamed with it

Nature’s melancholy melodies

The Sky shines its teeth

And in turn, they fear lightning

Black boy shine his teeth

And in turn, they fear his joy

So, he lays there watching the sky

And learns how to harbor aggression

And he still be looking

And sees it at its happiest some days

Where birds fly in strides they wouldn’t ever think to fly

And where trees dance to the sound of wind

Sometimes he sees himself

In the reflections of the bluish hue

And some days

The clouds form a shape similar to his shadows

And on those days

He feels he is the sky.

Check out all the art and columns of May's Boston Compass at


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