until I’m recognized
feels like 4 a.m. in summer
after a night of rain—
neither muggy nor humid,
but so dense and thick
you can taste, smell, and see it.
It’s all me.
The relieving release
in the email, the text
confirming my letter arrived,
the wave across the street,
a grocery store “you okay?”
to my apology, the “your tag is out,”
and all those small moments
that save me from my murky mind.
It's all them.
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