Growing Niece

We sung into the remote you called our microphone

The space outside of our bodies was a sold out audience

When I got too tired and sat on the edge of the bed

You touched my hand and asked me to dance

But I left for a year

Naively imagining nothing would change

I sung hoping you would chime in

But the remote was a remote

i danced around your toes hoping they might want to move with me

But they stood still

And I stood hoping I never left

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