9/21/18

i walk through the front door three times
before it feels good enough. what a pleasure
to find your lover home first. what a joy
to find your porch full of potting soil and
fingernail clippings. i sleep through most
afternoons now but i tell myself i’ve earned
it. what does it take to earn what you need?
this is worse than a bad peach. this is summer
gone sour.

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