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living
under the crackle of life
the static of leaves and days unwinding into the
mindless heat of summer
I keep an advent calendar,
unremarked
leading us from that day,
not when they told you what was possible
or we rolled in the grip of destruction and
mending
but from the afternoon when I understood you
had swum beyond my reach and I
sent up flares for you to find your way
home
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