At the most infinitesimal hint of light, she closed like a purple mirabilis jalapa folding petals into a
Her birthland is replete with child soldiers.
A thick glass tumbler bearing ice and amber looked positively judicial.
Pronounced “rehabilitated,” he was allowed to accompany her home.
Her bedroom was designed as an egg. Hence, silk walls of pale blue.
He moved into her gift, woke each morning to soft warm ice, and agreed as regards the
irrelevance of ribbons.
Once, there was biology.
It produced a mother whose absence was a singe.
It replaced marrow — a song camouflaged by inevitably aging bone.
With his watch on her mahogany night stand, she no longer longed for blue streaks to blossom
from her hair. Nature, she conceded, can suddenly become synonym for Desire.
Look where the window view finally stops.
“Sky is better than aspirin.”
The evenings are always pleasingly raw.
Air forgets to chill.
They both forget to dream about empty chairs.
They both forget to dream of a long-haired lady in a white taffeta gown, ignored in a hotel lobby
as she strums and croons to a gilded harpsichord.
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