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I send you red, ultra-violet, white light

The smell of roses, hose water, and a burning fire

The sounds of Dad's old mix tape, the whirring of an open window in a moving car, frogs

I send a warm, used mitt, camping blankets, and splintered wood

I send wild rice, blackberries, pickles and milk

But mostly, I send you an ancient attic with a person-sized mirror, surrounded by sheet-covered memories and familiar dust.


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