i’d hammer in the early afternoon
the blinds partially open
leaves for the watching
sun as my witness
on the bed not as hard
as it used to be
the sheets soft and old
greasy cotton
in the warmth of each other’s
tired laughter
our bodies well worn books
haven’t tired of reading
a long time
since you opened me
and i opened you
to admire our soft and funny shapes
and find pleasure
from the justice of toes
knees stomachs
with nervous hands
and mouths to the flame
flames and rivers
soft hard feelings
at best i’d forget my hair
and earrings
and get tangled up trying to find
the place where we meet
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