Watching you,
I am reminded
of the last time
we met.
You wept, one-handed,
while I let your yellow-eyed woman
sing of carousels
and children’s sneakers.
Every time I listen to you speak
I am full of your blood again,
full of your life,
and you are on the floor,
ritual over,
heavy breathing,
just like always.
Just like always
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