Saturday, March 2, 2024



On the Airbnb in Carqueiranne, our king mattress’s if truth be told two
         mechanical singles scooched in combination. With remotes, we govern

how prime to boost his ft, my hands, whole our bodies
         butt-down birds within plush porcelain cups. Certain, we’ve got intercourse.

However most commonly we chuckle, or on the café unintentionally order
         part a dozen espressos, go back to the condo frizzy-frizzy.

Even so, no matter river that is, it’s calm. It’s cataracted.
         Cellophaned. First grade, my absolute best pal’s dad carried his pistol

throughout the visitor rest room, by no means left. I’m ashamed
         to confess that for many of fundamental faculty I puzzled,

every time witnessing the mother slathering biscuits
         with I Can’t Imagine It’s Now not Butter, what she’d carried out incorrect.

Infrequently, mid-terror, his eyes metallic-consequence vast,
         my husband screams for his flashlight, knocks one fist towards

the mid-century bedside desk his father constructed for our house.
          The place’s the tools, the place’s the fireplace, who misplaced the fucking batteries.

It isn’t completely a mistake, believing him wide awake.
          A part of his frame lives within a town I’ve by no means explored

perpetually. My favourite poet studied classical piano at college,
          hated the degree, opted as an alternative to accomplish for the campus swim workforce.

I love to bear in mind the best way, when frightened, she knocks
          one fist towards her cardigan pocket, ensuring a cushy pack

of smokes remains to be within. I love to consider a pool, heated
          and stuffed with salt, the place each and every little bit of us floats.


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