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The window

Reaching back into the past to find that switch that got flipped you walk through many rooms

feeling around every doorway trying to toggle every bump on the walls

Some are switches Some shed light Some blind you Others plunge you into darkness

Most if they work at all flicker like an old seizure-inducing fluorescent tube

Yet you know at the back of your mental mansion perhaps dingy and blocked by thick curtains you will find a great pane

The window where your sunlight shines in

The Window
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