Nodding off on the clock when no one
watches. There is a poster with distorted
colors crudely folded in the corner by the
potted plant. Carpeted stairs charge the
wool in their socks and shocks their hands
when they make contact with the banister.
Unlocking old doors with bent coat hangers
to see where they go leads back to the alley
where they played street hockey in handed down
blades. They flocked in spades to the weekly
movie. Gathering up all of the lost time like
dirty clothes on the floor after a week of hell.
They sit in the moment like it was an evening
with their feet in the pool, and slow things
down ever so slightly. Staying up late
at one of the old school yards, in the summer
when no one else is there, then walking back
to go their separate ways.

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