Homework done and trash out --
my goal now is finish this meal without tears,
get to the kitchen and wrap the greens
and bones, little losses we won't toss.
There is no warning gong or whisper
when naivete turns like found cream.
I carry your faltered wilting in my throat,
unwilling to swallow or vomit.
Three days until a pay check,
still no overdue bills, but even
blankets in a car would be enough
were I to lose sleep hearing you breathe.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
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