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Do you see me, too?
Trevor, I saw you again—
I saw you sitting at the desk right beside me in Mr. Tracey’s seventh-grade homeroom,
Filled with twenty unhygienic twelve-year-old students. It smelled of strong coffee in a thermal.
A clock rests above the door. It ticks away the moments.
You were wearing that ratty brown zipper-up you liked so much.
The one that smelled as if it hadn’t seen the insid...
Saturday 24th September 2016 1:59 am
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