my,
my sister calls too
early in the week, an
early hour unallotted
for pleasantries, especially
for those
a certain age
a flinching, momentarily before
i steel myself
i say
hello
hello
too muted
to be received, ghosted
in the background,
in between the pauses of
familiar voices,
familiar sounds:
the dog barking
the door slamming
clearly misplaced
clearly unheard, all at once i
am relieved and melancholy and
am suddenly reminded
of the true meaning
of nostalgia
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