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One in the Same

i knew a guy with your name,
with stupid hair to boot.
he’s about your age and,
i’m not sure if you’re one
in the same.

he designed an exhibit,
at the science museum.
he said he had no friends here,
but i was sure i was one;
i guess it’s not
the same.

we were two in some billions,
and you’re one in the same.
i could check the statistics
to know it’ll be never
’til i meet you or him
again.

all i know is your name,
and kind of how you look.
you’re about his height and,
to my mind you might be one
in the same.

you even had an exhibit,
but at an art museum.
i know that we’re not friends here;
maybe that’s just
the same.

i am one in a million;
a million know your name.
i could try forever
to never hear from you
or him again.

i knew a guy with your name;
bet he wished he didn’t know mine.
i wonder if you’ve replaced him,
because to my mind you feel
the same.

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Tracks

your salty boot prints
dry on the tile floor
before me.

after you
you have gone and
i’m gone and our
shoes won’t touch
this place anymore,
you’ll still be walking
on my brain.

someone swept your tracks,
four and half years i guess,
finally to clear the mess.

i think you’re on a glacier now.
 

 

 

 

 

(i think you’re in my head
 in someone else’s body,
 just as impossible to reach.)

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My Anything

Jimmy ate the world and I understood,
finally,
that you’re not my anything.
Maybe there never was
or could be and you can’t be,
and I get it. But I don’t regret it
that I asked.

Somehow you still carried me
for a year or so,
but I can’t forever be
in the palm of your hand.
I’m leaving,
I’m leaving.
I’m whole.