Monday, September 28, 2009


The margarine moon
leaning on her side

Tonight, the earth wears
a skirt of wet dirt

Remember that day
I bought expensive soaps
Watched as you wrapped your hand
around the fork

At that cafe where
we drank coffee in the
thick white mugs
While I told you to
sprinkle me over
the mountain

You filled a blue bottle
with dandelion fluff
and said

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