I
August again
and the only letter in my mailbox
is a cautionary piece
about lead in my drinking water.
II
August brings bottles of wine
sipped in solitude,
and the familiar shape of your name
in unfamiliar places.
It brings dreams,
mundane, like us in a car
or talking on the phone.
In one dream,
you have a new tattoo
of a worm dangling in front of a fish.
You
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"And for the rest of that day,
all I could think of
was how easy you were to love
when you were folding a bed sheet;
your arms spread full-span."
-- my favorite part
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