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A Poem: To Be Near You 

When other patients’ visitors thin
enough, we claim one end
of the long dining table and
a jigsaw puzzle from the cabinet.
The room’s inoffensive whites and
blues conspire with the thermostat
to mist the room with sleep. Like
the cat, the times I don’t want
to be petted, I do want to be near you,
be it across the dining table
at the psych ward,
the bed,
a breath.
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