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Staircase
There’s a staircase in Doorham
that nobody goes up
and nobody goes down
because it doesn’t exist—
only whispering memories.
It only exists when you sit on the roof
on New Years’ Eve
with a bottle of beer
and a little pink balloon,
Remembering.
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blerb is my new favorite word.
A journal blerb...a spark of an idea. What does it mean? I don't know. I wrote a story about a people who live on a mysterious staircase, which may explain this poem.