Records in the Attic
Amongst creaking rafters
and cotton-candy clouds
I cannot un-erase him
Flipping, picking,
like separating cotton swabs
Seven countries
that I don't remember
etched in vinyl,
soft as fingerprints.
My mother said to me:
"You don't know you're human;
body hasn't failed you yet."
and adjusted her spectacles
I wanted to answer:
"You will walk me down the aisle one day."
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