Just an O.

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Paucity of words. Drought.

She’s sitting looking for a keyhole.

Her feet are nailed to the floor.

I do not see her. She fades before me.

Moment! The mirror is now fogged.

These are not tears.

Dust is the one to blur the view.

Do not pick the lock.

Next to you is a window.

 Inhale.

O.

M.M.

 

 

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