On the floor I see the once
pinned fortune cookie paper.
It’s a dumb piece of paper that I’ve kept.
What does it matter what pulls us forward?

I watch the pieces of my life rearranging,
it’s a picture that almost makes sense. I 
just have to get there, have to wait for the 
“fall into place”, for the dust to settle. 
Even now I listen for the sounds
you hear as you push in a piece 
just where it belongs.
Reassurance has weight in my hands.
We imagine the things we need, 
what does it matter, what keeps
our feet moving on?
Three months from that date,
I’m counting down. I’m a sucker for 
things that aren’t real like fate, like 
gentle waves of air in the shape of a 
hand, sent from something bigger.
I place the paper back on the cork board.
I ask July to be kind.


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