| no. 19 | ||||
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Yesterday, in the space of a street length
I gave my love away to the leathery face of the man rolling his life along in the saddle bags of his bike; to the fretting lady fingering her lotto slip; the the heavy framed eyes of a spike-haired woman brandishing a hard shell; to the tenuous gaze of someone's Oma with a walker; and to the greasy brute who saw my eyes and smiled back. I gave it to the gray horizon for letting blue shine through in the midst of winter; breathed it into the suddenly spring-like air toward the frozen fingers of waiting trees and into my hands like life and death. It wasn't your missing love I found but my own, the one that drifts into the clouds and rains down on strangers. No longer left with the poverty of disappointment, I breathed in the rich air and found the love that belongs to you, just where I'd left it. |
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| Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License | ||||