Emily Dickinson Skull And Poem Number 479

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We Are Children

We Are Children

a tantrum
a fit
an explosion
of expression
from 2 years
of life
and I
breathe in
and out
in
and out
in
and
out
for you
and me

I will
your flame
to shorten
make it smaller
I demand
and yet
with each inhale
with each exhale
I wish to ignite
and flare out
with you
for we both
are tiny
specks of
cosmos
filled with
large
crashing atoms
and this
this responsibly
feels
to much to bare.