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At all our abandoned email addresses
I picture piles of tiny white envelopes
accumulating on an invisible doorstep
somewhere in the universe

Sales at dress shops and book stores and bakeries
deep discounts from car dealers
announcements of concert dates in cities
where we don’t live anymore

Virtual or not— once in a while
don’t you too feel the weight of it?
The whisper sensation that all those offers,
greetings unclaimed, unwanted, unacknowledged
are huddled together, shivering
in the snow @ that abandoned address

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