April 30, 2012

She breaks down in the kitchen. That little
note you gave her–

10 months back and 4 days–
has crept into her conscience.

The sobs are familiar; she does them
everyday, but not always like this;
not always

over that note.
That morning -note on the bed,
after you ran out early, that note,

“I can’t believe how often I
want to see you!
love ——”

Not even wondering for how long
you might mean,
for how long you might
want to still see her. Sobbing,

she should have wondered,
she thinks, she should have
wondered.

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