You think love is a guessing game
and you have to win, every, single, time.
As if you had expertise and know-how:
the last time you loved
the heart you broke sounded
like a chicken bone
a dog snapped in half.
It was the last promise to be kept. My grandparents reposed where they had longed to be, at last. For yes, I had tarried. The morning sea ...
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