the world seeps into my mind from without
and outward seeps that mind of mine too
there is a man
five foot five perhaps
stooped you see
he stands outside his family's printing shop
perhaps he set it up many many moons back
he wears a white t-shirt faded to see-through
hair droops out an inch wide of his brows
he shuffles
taking his time since there is no need to rush
and stares at me like i am an object from out
we are at opposite ends of the spectrum
and
that
is
fine
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