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  • It started with a voice on my computer then became a voice on the phone. Immediately aware of each other in a way that was both new and familiar. Feelings of being seen by eyes that had never, in fact, met in shared space but could somehow paint every part of the other: all the nooks, all the crannies.

    It was morning. It was night. It was midnight. It was afternoon.

    It was car rides. It was clerks. It was tears and belly laughs. It was accents and dads and moms, and kids, and it was our hope. It was fear and it was cowardice, and it was tender and it was meaningless. It was everything. It was tours of our rooms, dancing in circles,and it was a cabin in the woods as the snow fell, it was a long island beach, it was disappointment and triumph and celebration and curiosity, and it was effusive and essential and it was a wisp. it was a tangle of him woven through a web of me.

    In another dimension 'we' means something. In some space that is as real as it is imaginary, the connection slips and fades. vulnerable to everything weightier that comes before it.

    "we really just sit," I start to text you, "and wait to be erased."

    then I delete it, and delete more, and it's gone.
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