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Jun 2012
I’m sure my parents must notice the wall

I’ve built between us, brick by brick.

Is it any wonder they wonder

Why I clock in hours that turn into days

At the theatre, the school,

A plaza over I-95.

It’s true, I have work.

I know it, they know it.

We also both know (or hope)

It’s only for now.

One day I’ll come back

This summer, or post-college

Or at the time of a tragedy

And we’ll reunite

No matter what age

We’ll go back, step back to previous days

Walk on Atlantic Avenue again

Go out to dinner at the same restaurant

Watch Judd Apatow movies and laugh,

Together, not online.
Written by
Rebecca Kane
887
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