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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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