“One Song at the End of Summer” by Pearl Peterson

i searched all summer

for the tips of my tongues.

i looked everywhere;

in the mystery section

and in the museum.

i read all the romance novels about

the people who have got it down.

i talked to the girls who

were left behind,

the tips of their tongues

were made of steel.

they were grounded.

i searched mountains

and rivers,

the lyrics of songs that took months to create

i stared out the windows of buildings

i commandeered

as if they were ships.

but instead,

instead of rubies and pearls

and gold and power.

i’m searching for my own type of treasure.

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