

New York New YorkA tree trapped a balloon outside my window. When its windy, I can hear the flimsy plastic flit against thin branches. The noise scatters past my windowsill to the edge of my bed. Its trapped like my nails that dont grow here. It flits the way my heart pools into my bladder. It scatters like I do after my foot wont stop tapping, so I leave two stops too soon.New York New York
thanks
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_____always late.
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