Note to world #7103

I write of this moment to remember it.

Eighteen, more than a little moody &

wearing on my last good nerve.

She asked me to please fix

the rip in her beloved teddy bear,

like she was still 7, and I thought:

sometimes no time has passed;

sometimes, time can’t pass fast enough,

while I patiently stitched the

shredded bum of the ancient animal.

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