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The where-are-you trick. The light
In a distant room then slam a door.
This isn't blindfolded putting your hands
In the bowl of spaghetti, this is
A narrative infection, a key learning,
A takeaway from being left alone.
A rhetoric it is disappointing
To have to call home. Going home
With a woman who hiccups 'till dawn.

Home. Home. You who. Now hear
This mudpuddle and understand.