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The Measure

The measure
in the corner flashed purple and said,
HAPPINESS: 871 points – LOW.
The silt
in the river ran thick and black
over my bare toes.
The air
solidified like a cubic inch
of cold water in my throat
and when he misspelled
“alive” so it said “alove”
I didn’t correct it
because maybe that’s how
it was supposed to be.




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