The collector

Behind you

in the attic
black plastic bags

body bags?
your body?
your soul?
your collection
your story
of other peoples story

and your hands
grub through
box
after box
after
box
of

your stories
your life
other peoples life

at least you are a life

even though part of you dies

when those bags
your body bags
your soul bags
your life bags

are piled up at the corner
and driven away
by the garbage
collector

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