only been writing at the old kitchen table for less than one hour/on drink three/lowered my heart rate with migraine pills/need more for the mercury in my back/i’m smoking
and
all
i
think
of
is
the woman whose smile spreads
like heaven opening and
like heaven surrendering and
like heaven submitting and
like heaven knowing
I
got
her
laying
down
pinned where I need her warm and happening
and
how
her sweet lemonade tastes better
than
my
salty tears.
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