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You used to be my carpet,
a way to warm and soft the floor.

	conceal nudity
	between floorboards,

That was you.  And I,

	crawlspace, dark
	beetlebug-full
	cobweb presence

That held air as a prisoner.
How should I represent
that light from the north window
when, when I once drew the
curtains wide, lit me up?

And one side of your body glowed.
And a patch of carpet warmed.