Postcard to myself (Pencil)

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Day 82.

Sketches of Spain.

Postcards that got written only to languish on the fridge door

Awaiting what, divine intervention?

Full of best intentions until the steam runs out.

You’re missed!

You’re thought of!

Pangs of distance muted in the echo chamber message side.

More fodder for the procrastinators volumes.

Wish you were here, you get the drift

Probably not or subconscious telepathy I underestimate.

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