All My Beads Tumble Back into the Box

Don’t worry —
I can do it again,
this magic trick
of the mind.

It’s not like
there’s a daily limit

a penalty for having
paused. I can do it
again, another bead
on the string,

and another.
Every day,
my string

is cut; all my
beads tumble
back into
the box

where I keep them.
Every day, the same
box with different

beads — slightly
different — and
every day, I race
to string them

before time runs out.
That’s what I’d like
you to think, but

the truth is,
there are days
when I don’t
look inside.


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