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  • I'd open my eyes and try to remember
    The sound of waves on the shore
    During my childhood

    I'd look behind me when I walked down the street
    Afraid that I would see you smirking behind me

    Lurking and looming there, tracing my footsteps
    Through puddles refilled as I passed

    I'd fear the sound of your voice
    Singing songs that once were duets
    In a red car on a country road

    I'd shake harder than the trees we played tag under
    Before a storm uprooted our lofty ceilings

    I'd call out when I grew brave
    Asking, "Do you remember?"
    I look back and see only the puddles and tree roots
    Ripples not from feet splashing, but the wind on a chilled night

    I'd sit in coffee shops and struggle to write
    Anything that brings meaning to the eternal forecast
    Taking me up now

    I'd think of the time before the catastrophe
    The end of all that once brought me up
    To the lofty heights that we played tag under

    I do not understand why fall had to come
    Why the squirrels whispered to the birds
    Singing nonsense in your ears

    I'd look for an explanation that I do not need
    Search in vain behind the mirror for the question
    I've filled in all the blanks already
    Never passing more than a glance in my direction

    I'm covered in red
    An ink staining the pages of a history
    I was once all too eager to make

    I cannot see, I cannot hear
    I am unable to speak

    My voice, too, locked in the photo chest of summer memories
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