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He calls for her

He calls for her as the shattered vase settles into a new cartography near the bed. A floorboard creaks. The day’s pangea just as changed.

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After this, will the kiss

After this, will the kiss you plant on my cheek at Narita Airport become a scar? The sun is rising; your hand still in the small of my back.

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There is no lasting peace

There is no lasting peace, just days like this: the house warming outside in & Sam, his bare feet on my lap, biting his upper lip & reading.

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Through the louvers I see Joy

Through the louvers I see Joy. Was it only last night that she’d pressed me against the tamarind tree? I touch my arm, ready to let her in.

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When he runs his fingers

When he runs his fingers through her hair he feels like undressing his alibis, flimsy as they are. Naked, he wants marriage. Clothed, alone.

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