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Brand New Mirror
By Tyrone Barrozo

Long has it been since I’d last 

spoken, seen, and thought of you. 

I can say the same about the 

salts, the sips, and the times when 

my eyes burned as we 

smiled into the sky, searching for 

someone, something 

to save us. 

It’s a coincidence that we meet within 

this solitary room like we used to. 

Do you recall when we followed– 

studied–the spinning of the ceiling fan? 

Do you still wish to fly? 

To have that feeling of 

foreign sensation of warmth 

absent beneath your toes? 

Because as I grew up, I 

outgrew those mirages in the dark and 

gave up on calling for saviors. 

So forgive me for not wanting to fly– 

the steady carpet beneath my feet feels 

just fine nowadays.

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