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This room is full of ghosts.
Ex lovers, abandoned spouses,
former friends.
They stand around our bed, arms crossed,
They whisper in our ears;
bring us memories unbidden,
remind us of our wounds, our failures,
our insecurities,
unfulfilled promises, smashed hopes.
"Your feet are too large."
“If only you could have children.”
“You should lose some weight.”
"HE loves me for who I am."
“Don’t leave me.”
“You don’t listen to me.”
“You’re too old.”
"You talk too much."
"Your breasts are small.”
"I have feelings for her."
Let me look in your eyes.
There is a doorway there,
Painted blue.
Behind it is
this moment,
tomorrow, and
all the years to come.
When you open it and
hold me in your arms,
we light the holy white sage
and watch the spirits flee.

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