It speaks for itself.
Sheila's
Poem
We
had hoped for death.
Crash
landing
on
this unexpected plateau,
where
life continues mechanically
and
the identical days merge.
Sometimes,
across a great distance,
you
speak,
words
faint
ever
more slippage.
There
are no dials to turn,
or
amplifiers to power up,
that
just this once,would
grant us
clear communication.
clear communication.
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