Sunday, September 7, 2008


I just finished writing a love poem to my husband.

This is NOT it.

This is about something--a cliche, really--with which I have no experience.


A little piece of cardboard
is where it starts
and soon the world
has run amok:

trust reduced to fractured numbers,
a slash through a handclasp

unknown lips
wrapped around
unkindled flame
licking the sweetness
from the digits

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