THE STAIRCASE’S WORN CENTER

rodrigo araya

Fragments persist
a singer’s sequined elbow,
three letters of a headline,
the corner of a date
that passed years ago.

These are the city’s palimpsests.
Layers of stories half-erased,
peeling back to reveal
what came before the now.

Press your palm to the wall.
Feel the texture of time
glue residue, torn edges,
the quiet stubbornness
of things that refuse
to disappear completely.

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