Love / poetry / Poetry / Writing

Day 212 of 35 (Day 2 of NaPoWriMo)

When I tell it, I say that the sun was setting behind us
to make them believe that it was inevitable and
that everything has an end. This is a story teller’s lie.

I tell them that we sat in swings on a playground near the beach,
which is true, and makes us children only playing.

I say that when it was done we turned around
and watched the sun sink over the water,
though this is not possible
because our beach faces south,
but I leave it because most people think
everything in California happens in the west.

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