Can’t stop writing aka Sunday morning

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I slept in the guest room at mom and dad’s last night

The bed bigger than when the purple turquoise walls accompanied teenage Imovie creations

That room was mine and pink and rose-covered

before it was yours

I remembered, looking at the dent in the door,

the time my friend and I blocked

Young sibling noise out with skinny-spinny black office chair

Legs

And Doors weren’t designed for tug-of-war

 

Your stacked white cube shelves

From IKEA

(Wit)held buried treasures

Your pile of left behind

Copies of Christian punk rock

Unnecessary after synced with your iTunes

Library

 

And our pile of sugary sweet teenage novels

Where hard work and

Spunk

Yielded boyfriends

And summer cash

 

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