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2014-02-26T22:11:45-05:00February 26th, 2014|Musings on life|

Writer’s block

I eat frozen mango
out of the bag
staring at the photographs
taped to my wall

all those breaths stolen
a vault of moments
I can swim back to
when I need them

like now

I am waiting for him
at the bottom of the slide

I am in that living room
on Christmas

I am at her wedding
where I hardly knew anyone
and danced barefoot
on that cold floor

I visit all of them
as I finish the mango
shuffling from memory to memory
hoping one of them
will take my hand
and write.

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