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These Kids of Ours


These kids of ours

They sometimes remind me of you


“One thousand islands!”

This one bellows

Mimicking you

While pouring on the salad dressing


“That’s some weird, wild stuff!”

The other one sometimes says

Reacting the way you would

When there is nothing good to say


Most of the time

They live in their teenage bubbles

Somewhat obsessed

With their blown out reflections


Or so I think

Until I find one of them

Sniffing your aftershave

Or using your things


Which I should probably

Clear away

But couldn’t quite

And this is why


Sometimes they pretend

To have moved on

That they’re so over

Losing you


So much so

That sometimes

They have me convinced

And yet


They touch your things

And say what you’d say

And tell me a story

About you


Or I look over

To see your expression on his face

Your gentleness

On her placid presence


And it makes my heart

Break and heal

In quick succession

(It hurts so good)


Like a fine gossamer

You are a sticky mesh

Woven just

Under their skin


Invisible

But not forgotten







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