You keep a small pool of her words in a bowl,
and when you're not looking,
I splash my face in it.

Someone must notice
my compulsion to wrap tight in her clothing
and walk through the yard with my eyes closed.

This is not the same as forgetting.
It is moving from room to room
with no reason to set down the flame.

09/21/2011

Posted on 09/21/2011
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