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  • My first cowbird piece and all I can think about is what I thought I’d have and don’t have.

    I live here in a place where the air is consistently warm. The five or so blocks that surround my home feel like a secret village. Mostly made up of one story two bedroom homes with red painted doors or white painted fences. When I walk, mild notes from afar swirl within a layer of privacy. Something’s off, but it’s also easy.

    Where I am and where I thought I’d be don’t really seem to match up. I just sort of do things. No, I never definitively knew something that isn’t so now. I just thought where I am wouldn’t be where I am and wouldn’t be, alone.

    I am with people. I have people. I have real world people. And more importantly, I have people every time I flip open this little box that connects to the air that connects to some wires and then to the people that I need. But I’m not with anyone, really.

    For now though, wrapped in warmth, I’ll just live from story to story.
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