want to make small cuts
on the soft parts of the back of your knees
it’s warmer
than it was three hours ago
but the night!
is still wet
it rubs
against my cheek
my head in your neck
bike leaning against the car
wreckage
no one can see
they’re explaining French politics
on the radio and I’m
thinking about fig spread that isn’t yours
spitting up pain pills
into a trash can on 1st and Oltorf
accordions for legs
my love
I know now
why things that are sweet are heavy
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