White-bellied moths
throw themselves
on the wall
I have the lamp on
You’re out like a light
as they say--
the father says
Meanwhile I keep the lamp burning
burning
Light like a wave
in my chest
pulse like touch
palms burning
radiate
desire
_
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My sister's two-week trip to visit me might feel more like a one-week trip because she'll visit two very dear friends as well. Those...
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