poetry

Poem: Erased

CoffeeShop

Erased

Sitting in your

favorite seat

next to the window at

my favorite

coffee shop,

looking out at the

strangers passing by

in the blistering

August heat,

I realize that

I no longer

remember the

exact color of

your eyes

or what

your voice

sounded like.

 

I realize that this

does not upset me,

and that

It was surprisingly easy

to erase you.

 

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