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Zack Moy
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Have we met before?

Poetry1 min read

Everywhere I look, I see recipes from the past.

One part Freshman roommate, one part high school biology teacher, two parts ex girlfriend, and a splash of my first boss. Bake for 27-35 years, rotating halfway, and I swear— "we've met somewhere, right?"

No new friends really means projecting the past onto everyone new. As if you're just the 19th iteration of the universe sending me a new connection.

"Hey, I'm Zack, it's nice to meet you." ("Should I trust you?") "Yeah, been here for a bit over two years." ("Should I want you?") "No, I work for a small startup." ("Should I love you?")

I must not be going out enough because everyone seems like a remix of a remix. Derivative of a genuine soul and more like the TikTok algorithm applied to my past.

You seem familiar but too familiar for comfort.

Special thanks to Christy for collaborating on the ideas

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