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The Wall

When I was 11
Dion and I believed
With all our hearts we could muster
That the nondescript Wall
Of the local Laundromat
Across the alley from his tenements
Was a portal to a magical world
Of elves and swords and adventure

I can still feel the pitted concrete Wall
Covered over with pearly white paint
Curiously smooth and cool

I can taste the loud yearning of my heart
For another place, an insistent pounding
I could hear all the time:

“There’s more! There’s more! There’s more!”

And I can see Dion and me
Puffy winter coats
Side by side
Backs to the Wall
Glancing at each other
Sinking down into Wall sits
Closing our eyes
And waiting for the Wall
To absorb our backs
And spit us out
Into lithe new bodies
And breathtaking

Where we meant something
Heroes of a new story
Where the pull, the yearning, for more
Would finally stop pulling

I’m telling you,
I really, really

“Did you feel that!”
Eyes snapping open
Heart pounding.
“It almost happened
That time.”

I am still looking
20 years later

And I can still
Hear the sound
In my veins.

Another world
Calling me

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