• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 12
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The Boxed Life

snapshot words                     postcard mind
greetings from nowhere        that you would know

my DNA hidden                   behind a stamp
the closest you get                 to touching flesh

redundant and slouching         towards your front door
two weeks away                     from the dirt of the socials

                                       but

here is more human                than mere text
more heart                             than mass communication

a thought of you                      trussed and trusted
to anonymous hands               outback to city

deliver me                             to you
a new tattoo                           the world as a bridge

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