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The stillness remembers,
Even if I don't,
How I tried to lay
Us out by grid
And rationalize every square
Never thinking it could be
Individual -
We textured our lives
With pieces of discovery
And truth - an excavation
To go back
And notice the bear I gave her
Tucked in between her fetal sheets
At night - or the blemish
Held subliminally to the glare
Of light, can be seen of
Lips on my framed glass -
And I could at least always know
How to entwine her fingers -
The stillness noticed
Even if I still don't.