Your face, bookmarked

I’ve missed reading things in real time. Daily browsing of your flowers, chickens, sons, oceans. Everything is strange for me here and I’m trying not to think about all the things I have to do to become settled. My desk compared to everyone else’s is sterile, but covered in dust giving me an eerie feeling that I’ve been here forever and have yet to make anything. I’ve met about 50 people and can’t remember their names – only faces. I wish my brain could categorize names as it does faces. The more places I move the likelier it is that I’ll recognize someone who was never really here. Your face belongs in Pennsylvania or California. I went to high school with you, I thought, but not here. My east coast to west coast life. Every person has a bookmark of where they should be within my mind. It’s going to take time for me to get every piece the way I want it. But life is like writing that way – one word, one poem at a time. Focus on the small and eventually the large will come together.

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