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Wingtips
The sun was rising
against the bloodstained sky.
A boy sat on the roof of his
little home.
His silhouette was framed by trees waving
curling around the lightening sky.
His head was bent
and his eyes paved the pebbles
as if he didn't deserve to see the
beautiful sunrise that he
went up to see.
Two birds flew across
wingtips touching.
A couple houses down a girl was sitting at the
edge of her roof.
Teasing fate carefully.
Staring up as the sun rose.
She only looked at the boy once.
"You don't have to lie,
I know it was you."
Were the last words she had said to
the boy with the bent head.
Before he started watching the sunrise
alone.
He didn't have to lie,
he knew it was him
who had broken the pebble heart,
and let go of her hand,
so he could fly and then
he could fall
and land
sitting at the edge of the roof
framed against the morning.
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I wrote about a boy and a girls relationship, but made them watching a sunrise.