It's january again,
which means nothing.
the crisp edges of last-years memories
begin to fade, and blend
into the collage
lots of people wearing hoodies and carharts
some of them are planning out their year
with a tight grip on the pen
at cafe's
over a double shot espresso
over a yellow pad with blue lines
they spill thousands of words
onto that pad
praying for a shot in the dark.
not present to the one
that is in front of them.
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