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Under Heather 
Preston Taylor

Under Heather
I read your letter
And those sweeping tones
Oh how they’ve grown lone
times I see that square
There where I thought you’d stare and
My nights flourish with inklings of remorse
Oh they’d pass and we would’ve laughed
If you hadn’t pulled me from the page
And given me the stage
I once knew

Heather stares as I impair
Myself and once again
I’ll make it there beyond these
Asphyxiated walls of Charles’
Sprawl haunts me and his false promises
Of sweet dreams and new things
I thought he would give me

But has it really been that long since you knew me?
It feels like yesterday I looked down the barrel of your gun while
You screamed, terrified
and numb
and every frightening foresight of memory that we all one day administer
of the priest who wants to move to Montana to be with his wife
and Bella who stayed in bed with someone she barely knew only to slip out

at a quarter till two

and I hope your kids turn out the way
you wanted them to

But God knows if they were anything like me you’d run away but not too far
because anything beyond Williamsburg is simply too far removed
I wish I didn’t look down on you because the Louvre’s not looking as nice as

it used to
And what shell of a past present hell would I be living in if I decided that

adolescent peak isn’t just a
fearful retreat but even then,
Would you let me run back to you?

We both know I’m no better than I used to be
When August’s choke on Augusta’s throat
Sunk me, I can’t let it go
But I glance over now,
Heather laughs now,
How did she know?

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