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My subconscious’ custodian

11/3/2017

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Picture
I dreamed of you last night
And I wonder why it hurt so much
My subconscious' custodian
Mopping up the last drops of emotion
From a spill that happened years ago
The tears all since dried


I go days sometimes without thinking of you
You presence erasing from my spaces
It’s strange now to say your name
Once spoken like a prayer
It’s a religion I’ve relinquished
Having learned too late I was forsaken


But there are boots in the basement
Their grommets corroded
Too big for my feet
No good to anyone anymore
I don’t throw them out
Not for guilt or good luck
Perhaps as a warning
That those things which go untended
Will fall to disrepair and rot


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