@

We lay down
our fossil record
with alacrity
then stand it up again:
photographs, video,
blog postings,
an eternal catalog
of correspondence.

Moments seem
to flow together,
live and walk
among us
in vibrant color,
yet we cannot enter
the breath of a shadow.

A swollen bubble
of our detritus,
the dead skins
of our lives,
buries us within
its ever present
absence.

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