Building Bridges

Build me a bridge to your door.

Of paper-mached ticket stubs

Of shoeboxes,

that hold a year

 

Tell it to bring me here-

Again.

 

Paint its deck of déjà-vu

with thick, wet, lurid yellow lines

for my forgetful

footsteps.

 

Then roll your bedroom carpet down it-

Warm maroon, worn

by our shoes;

Make my feet

feel familiar-

 

Treading old ground

Taking new pictures.

 

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