we are tiptoeing on the edges of happiness
going in circles, sometimes, of course,
but the point is we are getting closer to the centre
this is like a record, remember those? old-fashioned, like Love, like This
i can't help but look
sideways, out of the corner of my eye, back-glancing as we go
and behind us the edges are slipping away, crumbling, and i can't tell if this
destruction of the past is
good
or
bad
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