the truth of what has come before
slumbers between the bed of "i knew then"
and sheets of "in retrospect" woven
so quietly in the absence of light
i pretend its not there
truth's edges are soothed by time's grace
delicately composed layer by
harshly comprised layer deceives
for what is wrapped in the package labeled "survival"
is unfolded to reveal all the broken pieces
under rug swept
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