Who, me?


I remember calling it a curse,
or at least a pending disaster,
the way it seeped into mornings
like smoke swirling in a foolish
and unrecognizable gait, nothing
like the flood so swift it overtakes
the grating too wide to catch
these adjustments. Just one more
moment for this calculation.
Just one more yesterday before
I lose the train. Just one more
untainted and welcome memory.



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