Tuesday, February 1, 2011

getting back

i left something outside months ago

the snow swallowed it up

sedentary and never ending

the snow piles walls

between cars

and sidewalks

(you, now)

the thing lays there

forgotten and sleeping

in blank albino sand dunes

leaving endless shoe puddles

expressionless and unapologetic

i was sure that, a surer sure than usual

a bath would be taken for the first time in years

even if I have to boil every pot in the house tonight

it is warm and almost free and the thing i can’t remember

that I left in the snow will wash off me like stepping salty boots

in a fresh spring puddle and every vertebrae will think of when they

can lay exposed and beaming from a swinging sundress, and stay there

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