I never told you about the things I threw away
after
or the space you take up in my empty apartment
I think on it
skip stones on it
lose sleep not holding you
I trace around moments that made me forget
you write about times you remember
I speak of documents, (laundry,) the passing of clouds, mail, and stuff of strangers
lists that leak
conversation that leaches
my heart has tried on many languages in hopes of reaching you
by Cristina Paul
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