| Does the mute palace of an empty house
|
| Welcome you back warmly?
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| The bedroom lights left on all night
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| Anticipating the low-grade sun as it arises warmly
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| Is there any other way to learn what ought?
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| A garden, for instance, when nothing grows
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| But dirt flowers and ivy
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| And things you might find lying on the side of the road
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| That seemed to look back up Eddy’s smiling
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| Full of hope to be eventually less easily reminded of
|
| Are you upset?
|
| Are you done yet falling out of love?
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| A bedroom with a bed that isn’t there anymore
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| The atoms, the breath, the sun across the floor
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| A catch of crumbs that you can’t do without anymore
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| The orange peel, the apple core
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| A window facing a window, the spangle on the door after the party
|
| A picture frame, regifted, came wrapped in the same white box Shaped like a
|
| heart, but the faded photos tardy
|
| Full of hope to be eventually less easily reminded of
|
| Are you all set?
|
| Are you done yet falling out of love? |