the man in the blue FBI shirt will show up at a door
where someone knew me years ago; we fought and haven't
spoken since and he will find out why.
I hope he will tell me when we meet in the beige room
where I will turn in surprise to see him, not hearing
his gumshoes
treading so softly across the vinyl flooring
he catches me smiling at his tie,
but does not return
the favor.
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