and from that window
when all turned purple
lightning rolling up the river
from the sea
- we in flashes would naked be -
temporarily returning
to the darkness of the womb
and in decorum
in the morning we would part -
with pleasant kiss
in exchange so light
- to go on separate paths
to gather the money for the honey
of night and pay the rent
I sometimes wonder
where you are
and do you think of me -
or where those kisses
lighter than they seemed
to be - the train rolls away
and that window - one of many -
goes too
The Blue Book
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