birthdays come like mist in the morning
they are warmed by the afternoon sun
like the years, they come and go
holding only bittersweet memories
that rest like so many treasured volumes on your shelf
and when you sleep…
you browse the dusty stacks
forming webs of intricate design
while eyes flutter under lids so tight
and when you awake
to a day of reincarnation
there will be thoughts of past lives
and of birthdays gone
forever lost…
in the shadows of the moon
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 5/14/13


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