I have too many chairs. It’s becoming a strange new addiction, like most girls are with shoes. But when you see this new chair in it’s pretty little home I can’t help but know I made the right decision.
My head drifts, connecting dots on the ceiling with stars. Counting hair follicles and fancy shoe collections. I sigh heavily and suck in. Holding the breath through to a new age. Expecting a change in molecules, but I'm here. Again and still and forever. Floating unfinished.
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