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I want to stay up late
reading poems and drawing
on each other’s skin
But you are so weary
so often 
And then morning comes 
and you drop 
your feet 
on the rough floor 
and shuffle 
toward the cockcrow
And you’ve forgotten
that I want your skin
on my skin

Your attention sits near the window
The washbasin
The coffee pot
The door

Occasionally a kiss
on the forehead
before goodbye

But always a pause
for the dog bowl
for the cat





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