Meanwhile
God is dead mice
under the stove
And me at 18 watching
Laura Palmer die
On a tv that no one can carry.
My slow descension
Remaining a mystery
25 years later,
That apartment had
Vines across the windows,
And I thought
We don’t need heat;
We need romantic windows.
I found the dvd in a walmart bin
Years later, hidden under
The rubble of bad 2000’s comedies.
“This was meant to be,”
I remember thinking as I clicked
And unclicked
The closing tab,
The backdrop of red curtain
Framing my tragic entertainment.
It would take time for me to be sad
That I related to Laura.
It takes time to get old.
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