This chill spring
takes no hostage
blossom hovers
on the brink
& every breath
is hard, rattles
through.
I’m closed
in from cold.
You called
again, as you
sometimes do,
& life peeled
back forty years
evoked us
shining new.
You found me
laughing, in that
turbo crowd:
our love a dream.
I remember
every charm
we stitched,
on our bracelet
of desire,
yet now we talk
of children,
grown & moved
away.
Your new love
cleaves to you,
like designer
lingerie,
& I fly free
as I always
promised to;
waiting for
sun’s molten
heart to
heal me.
.
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