"discovering a crumpled reminder"
by Christina Abbott
the nerve of you, to leave your Marley tie-dye crumpled,
mocking me, behind my dresser where you flung it last fall, arced past The Starry Night snagging on the corner&
falling like ash Sherlock Holmes investigated, puffed his pipe and proclaimed Marley to be MIA. We laughed about it later when I sent you home, your borrowed cotton back withering into the abyss
of the parking lot, bright flecks of fractured emerald grass glimmering
starts reflected onto dank cement until any sense of up & down, heaven & concrete gone
back to the vibrations you gave me that day briefly after stripping,
running back to bed, indulging again- pulsing and half madabandoning me afterward with nothing left to experience, our honey-mouthed fling crumpled behind the dresser, an outline of the past,
where you flung your t-shirt last fall.
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