I gather together the things that happen to me through the
day, all the things that I am brimming over to share with you, and I store them
away like shining copper pennies. I want to place each one of them in your open
palm and see the way you smile at me and stroke my cheek with the back of your
finger.
I keep them in my pocket until the sun sets, my eyes on the
door handle, and then I throw them into the well and wish. I wish that
tomorrow, that tomorrow you’ll be here.
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