January 7, 2011
Another mistake made
As I write your letter
I twist the pencil to erase.
I wasn’t thinking.
We don’t think about
What we do,
But every mistake
Shrinks the eraser.
Each time you
Drag it across,
It goes gray,
Grows gray and shrinks.
Makes me think of
Why I write this letter.
Makes me sad that
My eraser is gone.

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