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We are the walls in formless shapes. The overbearing weight. This house weighs heavy on my mind. Erasing tapes, undocumented faiths. Took down your pictures and your belongings. In boxes buried under the soil, in the yard behind our tree, you’ll wait. Wrote tiny poems through the lines of my hands. Little birds flew by me. The wind’s been calling your name south in pursuit of foreign lands. Can’t go back. Where’s your tact? Where… read more

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