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May 2015
I'm the letter that you never sent, I'm the notebook you bought but never wrote in, I'm the aisle that's still wrapped up in plastic;
I'm dry paint brushes, month old lights, dusty shelves, heavy dictionaries, untouched pillows, coffee gone cold, window left open during rain
bm
Written by
bm  merely drifting through
(merely drifting through)   
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