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Missing

by

Jordan Compton

Silently I stare
at the ceiling.
Changing visions and
images of you flash
on the canvas.
I wish I could meet you.
To talk to you,
see you smile and
compare head sizes.
To know what I
would call you.
Brother. Sister.
Wow, a sister...
A sister to protect,
set me up, and
hog the bathroom.
But all I have
is imagination and
knowledge that some day
we shall meet.
And continue to be
a family.

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