Death

We don’t talk about how relationships never end …. it feels … like reaching through air.

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Pinkie

I love you. Your forehead; my lips. Your rings; my giving. Your lifeless body; my ring. My ring; your body leaving. My longing; your pinkie finger. My decision; topaz side by side. I love you.

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Narrative on a Wound

The wound, the wound. You know that bearded man, the one who died?  The one who died angry, who wrapped himself around me and I led him out?  Well it’s been a year now and I’ve been angry (again).  He never said good bye.

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