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Satellites fallen from grace
by t.wagner
There was a time she was everything
all the minutes of the day
all the songs on car stereos
Her words on the phone‐electric
her fingers on my shoulder‐sizzling
Now her memory is stored in a closet:
as identifiable remains
I don't see her in the night sky anymore
I probably mistook that flashing light
for something astral
Only because I wanted it to be so
Previously published in Words May Go by t.wagner (Quill and Parchment Press).
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