Friday, July 22, 2016

what's not replaced

somewhere in this world
my wallet
lies on
the ground, or is in the hands
some nefarious
soul
becoming me,
he must be disappointed
by the lack
of cash
folded within.
slowly i swim through
the day,
on the phone
speaking to agents,
correcting the loss with
new plastic,
new identification,
new leather with which
to encase
my life.
everything inside is gone,
but replaced,
everything that is,
but you,
your hand written note
folded into squares,
saying
i'm sorry. I love you.

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