Thirty-nine
Tattooed and bald
Wheeling trash cans
Passes sixteen-year-old Allisons
In school uniform and badly lit hallways
Life at their heels
Absolutely awkward with it.
I wonder if they wonder
About past futures
And hairnets
And the vehicles of life, living.
We severed somewhere in the last dimension.
Classes and subclasses.
Equal but separate.
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