There
are times, I’ve been a snowflake. There are times, I’ve been a sin. Times I’ve
been the queen of hearts for an entire evening, in a highly contested poker
game. There
are times I’ve been a rough draft-worthy carbon tip, for sketching off this
pencil, a soft number 2. Sure, I have
known myself as rot and also as slow life upon a windowsill. Been a bright
color in a tail feather on a Bird of Paradise, and a sudden tear from delight delivered
down an orphan’s face. Been part of an O.C.D. letter count, 17th “E”
on a cereal box. Oh yes and also been one of many stylish links in a cougar’s
showy bracelet on a Friday’s hunting date, been the pressure in peeve on a
outbreath, and a rearview mirror glance in anger, and played a small but timely
bit-part in
‘desolate for ages’. I was the keynote presence in a memory, and the initial
hands-on contact surface for receiving stolen goods. I’ve been some fruity
flavored gum under a sit down service counter. I’ve been useless grease on too
tight a nut, the lower case “L” on a ancient typewriter key, been on the belly
side of an antique spittoon, and part of the plastic lid on a container of
goldfish food. I’ve been dog-eared, in the compression part of a door slam, and
floss that was never used. I’ve been to all these whereabouts and back. And
no, I truly couldn’t have done any of this without you, either by your guided
assistance or by your contact, some how indirect. Historically I have been all
these things, as even now, just simply a presence part of your read. It’s a
wonder you don’t know me. For we have shamelessly shared these same confines of
this small corner of the universe, so many times and over. And
always, just as thoroughly and easily as you’ve shared this current time with
me.
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