Wednesday, January 20, 2016


I think it ends up being me.

The slow separation, that ends in a gestalt break between two people, when I realize I'm just a signpost; rather, I'm an empty cavity in the ground where a signpost would be if there was significance in it.

You don't see those holes from a few feet away.  And then, you pass it, and you forget it.

But I'm still here.

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