"dotted lines"
years from now you'll write me a letter
on my birthday, explaining
that you lack a reflection in wet pavement.
just tell me your emotions have left you,
but in simple arrangements & less metaphor.
i'll write you back:
to let you know nothing has
changed- that my walls are covered
in portraits of people i will never be.
even though you've left
we're connected by a string.
in the middle of the day,
i speak to your ghost in an empty room.
i left the cadence of your words packed
away in a box, tied with a ribbon.
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