Happy Birthday

Happy birthday: Your significant memory in which you carry yourself Be a vessel of critical documentation/documents, but today you’re air. I am not here in the fuzzed VHS-ness of small ageth baby teeth family camera lens birthday parties in neighborhood park, so deal with it.
I am not here in the junction of suburban streets/grass dew/traffic cone mist where fear is what lowercase emotion baby teeth in wet park benches do to environmental phenomena. Therefore, upon careful reflection, deal with it.
I compare something to the kind of lowercase dissonance variation you feel when you realize a terrible noise like when you realize for the first time that helium balloons pop/the kind of elation when helium balloons do that thing to your voice/both of them together happens on your better nights entrusted to analog recordings and basement boxes like the bag of selfish organ, plural you were.
So happy birthday. But for want of the mortal lack the sky or body is already dying.

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