I tried to securely fasten
the sheets of concrete to his feet.
Not to know if it dead ends,
but to be able to follow along.
He smiled.
He was patient.
Though his clothes were in the tub,
"It's just one day," he said.
"It's not always."
I believed him.
We settled on griptape instead.
He could still stand.
My music was still too loud.
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