watching someone walk in an old home movie
they aren't walking now - if they're even living
but we see them - smiling, opening some gift, riding a pig
maybe we see them stare, catch a moment of stillness
I have some nights, up all night churning words to butter,
nevermind if it's fit for bread
other nights, like this one, spent writing one word and deleting it,
repetition like a mad man,
breaks to pace the hall and think "when this is read, who will I be"
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