“I’ve noticed lately that you have returned. It has me worried.”

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In subtle ways, the feeling of your imminent return you have relayed loud and clear. I close my eyes and let sleep take me. There, in what seems like more than a passing moment,  you present yourself.

I thought I gave up on you. Though you left town, leaving me with a derelict broom and no waste bin to clean up your detritus. Why? Why? Why are you here? Did you ever, really ever, truly, really, ever leave?

About Keith Goldstein

Lives and works in New York City.
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