fore and aft

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A big convention tent . . . rows and rows of empty
Folding chairs . . . people milling around.
I see you in an aisle between the chairs.

You sit stock still, upright with legs
Out straight in front . . . you do not move.
You cannot lie down.

I go to you.
I hold you . . .
Gently, until
You relax.

I leave you
Lying quietly there
In peace . . . .

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