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1
I shed fragments: a memory a hope a line a dream a wrinkle I shed bits of me in airports and faceless hotels
I shape a new me: a memory a hope a line a dream a curve I shape a new being in cities I'll never see again
2
I have forgotten what it is to be alone.
I know. When I call for wine more than I need. A demi instead of a quart. Or wake up in a bed with a chaste unslept side
I know. When I hear my thoughts as words spoken aloud. When my arms ache with the weights they have forgotten to hold.
I know. When I stumble to my hotel holding myself in the dark. Licking at the sugar at the corner of my lip. As if it were you, doing so.
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