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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)   
415
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