the wall, i think about the man
or woman
who carefully
applied this wallpaper.
i see his measurements,
his cuts
and miscuts,
the way he smoothed
out a wrinkle,
or rolled on the paste.
i see that he even
signed his named
beneath one sheet.
i go at it, peeling it
all away,
scraping,
then stand at the window
with my coffee.
the same window i'm
sure he stood at
years ago, as he took
a well earned break.
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