Saturday, November 3, 2012


Now that she is dead to him
he tosses and turns
to the sound of sudden chains
in the deep night
or awakens to the voice of a small bird
that should only sing by day
and as his buttons pop
off his striped starched shirt
he remembers her flying
gummy bears popping
from hurriedly wrapped
paper and dancing
across the airport floor

rubbery evidence
she is alive and well
in the haunt

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