Attic

She accidentally cuts into the sleeve
of his shirt; that she is wearing while
dissecting Polaroid photos she found
among their old belongings.
She just threw it on because she could see
her breath in the attic, and the old flannel
just happened to be draped over a small
statue of a goat man. If she remembered
correctly it used to be the center of attention
in his mother’s garden, but nothing like it
could be found their anymore.
The pictures were mostly blurry lapses of
time from when they were both still in school.
The vague shapes of beer cans and ash trays
could be made out if one was familiar with
what they were looking at, and the faces could
be recognized if you squinted enough to barely
be able to see.

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