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snug against your stride and folded
into a half forgotten weight-
ready to face the expansive days no longer limitless.
I empty myself
allow myself to spill across
counter tops and coffee tables, counted
hoping never to be found empty
rendered useless after the wear.
I've begun to tear
a light thing, where my edges meet
as friction and falling sands
press me pale.
Still I pour myself against the warmest parts of you
to hold heat and hope,
the place you fold scraps you must not forget,
but will not remember now.
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