I live in the spaces between your words.
I am the unsaid truth
of your experience.
You form letters into words
and you speak them
to everyone you meet.
But, they are a mask.
Your truth lies
in between
the

I keep finding old poems that create a history for me. After my spouse, Jacquelyn, died, I was alone in bed, and spent some time staring at her closet, which used to be my closet. Now, another beautiful woman has

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