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You live buried deep within my consciousness,
So deep I couldn’t pluck you out even if I wanted to,
Imprisoned in cylinders of glass,
Suspended in liquid as if you are in utero,
Or specimens in a museum,
Preserved for academic purposes-

All five of you are here,
You have not changed,
For you are suspended in time also,
Exactly as I remember you,
No real-life developments or modifications
Can penetrate these deep chambers of my memory-

Every now and then I examine you,
I walk right up to your glass,
Clipboard in hand,
And make notes,
I observe, looking for answers
To my still hanging questions-

I may not have all the answers,
But I will figure them out,
Given time and ample study,
Until then you will remain exactly where you are,
Behind your glass,
Where I can see you.

Written by

Lauren Phillips is a language teacher and writer with a deep love of words in all their forms. She uses writing to help her process her own tangled thoughts.

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