1 <br />grieving corridors <br />passageways to goodbyes <br />dark corners of pains <br />tucked away in the crevices <br />of memories <br />we cut <br />we hurt <br />we cry <br />we love <br /> <br /> <br />2 <br />mozart’s piano <br />and flute orchestra <br />in the early morning ritual <br />of letting go <br /> <br />and I begged you: <br />let me go through my own pain <br />lulled into an internal silence <br /> <br />there are moments <br />captured in the heat <br />of april <br /> <br /> <br />3 <br />I have practiced <br />goodbyes, I thought, <br />perfectly <br /> <br />airports and airlines <br />are memories <br />and here, once more <br />another farewell <br />practice makes <br />no perfect goodbyes<br /><br />Aida Santos<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/for-lynn-2/
