Dance in the Full Moon

O, the Frailty of Memory

Monday, May 5, 2014

5.5

The quiet sound of your sobs still seeps through the walls, so thin that I hear you through drywall, studs, jointer, wallpaper, screws and all. The failure of the builders to make a division to hold us separate only speeds the inevitable. I don't only want to hear you cry.

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