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Imaginary Heavens

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I laugh at my praying mother
And tell her it’s futile.
She pretends to ignore it,
and talks instead,
about heaven and hell,
about pearly gates and eternal life.

The voice in my love stuck head
tells me it’s all futile.
I choose to ignore it,
and dream instead,
of misty mornings
and sunny beaches,
of passionate love-making
and being loved.

My mother
is not the only one
hopelessly waiting
for a non-existent heaven…


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