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I think I packed my bags too soon
and in the painstakingly labeled chaos
of bottled inks and winter coats
I might have bundled my words
and my capacity for visions
because I can no longer live here
as soundly as I used to
knowing on the other side of this night
there is a world you have conjured
from love and laughter
and protection and security
and I’m the only piece that’s missing

and it’s all that I see
it’s more real than anything
that’s left here
that I am not taking with me

and all that I hear is the clock ticking
even the birds are distracted in their song
so this is how it feels inside a time capsule

what full moon?
what neon blare and burning life
pulsing and zigzagging
under the breathless skyline?
what touch of Indian summer
at the hems of my senses?
what sweetness of zabaione
drawing dark symbols on my tongue?
what pupils widened by desire or wine?

my heart has been boxed
and sealed with tape
and sent ahead of my body
in a nest of bubble wrap and daydreams
and it’s waiting to breathe
the same air as you
and nothing else matters

“Union Station” by photographer Harrison Long


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