I think there are
times that don't mean anything
at all to us.
Times that we let sink
between the couch cushions
or dip below the horizon
and when we look back,
with autumn leaves framing
our past,
I know it could
have happened so many
ways.
It could have been wrapped
in cinnamon or served
with a twist of lemon
indifference. But as it
came to pass, it happened with
hammers and nails and
the gestures of maniacs.
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