Other Realities

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If there were other realities,
ones in which I was not socially inconsistent,
where I wouldn’t freeze like a rabbit seen,
where all my senses were dulled and my hand was not ready to block,
where I was talkative and jovial,
it is likely I would live in the desert
and people would be too thirsty to care.
But the end person would still be the same,
the way I move through life, exact.
You would recognize me.

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