When I'm lucky I run into myself
on the street. She looks older in
different clothes from the ones
I fell asleep in.
She looks more or less like the others
on the street and her voice
doesn't ring in my ears.
I can't hear what she's thinking
and she stops to scratch her ankle with
the bottom of her other shoe.
The first thing when I wake up
where you've never been, I roll over
to the other side that's also mine.
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