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Clean
Heartbeat limps
into my ears as I perfunctorily
greet your memory.
The slate of recollection wiped
clean
by a year-long flood.
Good.
Passersby on the street - your
memory and me.
Heartbeat finally caught
up to steady-drum-wit.
I'm glad, I am glad now -
you exist
only as a breath-steam image
on my glasses.
I got a new pair this year
so I could see more clearly.
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1.30am realization that he is not my tragedy anymore.