It finds me again, love
in a gray knit hat, dark eyed, smiling.
It'll be worth the ride, he tells me,
warmer this time. Soft pale lips
and skin. There are shaking leaves
and pin wheels, and either
we'll sleep, or we'll lie awake exchanging
stale breaths.
I sit in the shadows
and from that lonely spot on your bed
watch you comb your hair. Its beautiful,
he says, wiping dust from clocks on the walls,
when you sleep, beneath these sheets.
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