free long enough
Mistakes that I have made.I guess they collect
in other people�s memories
like dingy yellow sheets of paper
from an office in the sixties.
Sometimes when I make a left
onto the last bridge between me and work,
I look over the edge
at all that empty space and think...
I could fly long enough to know I was flying.
And somewhere
in a dark room
a machine hums over
the ones and zeroes
that detail my payments
and transgressions.
I haven�t been free long enough to know I was free
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