Peach Woman

 

She’s saying

I wish there could be a metaphorical

investigative committee

and I’m saying

therapy or a priest?

 

and, behind us,

the excellence of bright children

 

and, on our walk home,

the left glove

 

and I’m saying

I’m fueled by kissing and crimes

against the environment

 

and she’s saying

the cat shaped depression in this cushion

 

the necessity of the cat

 

and I’m saying

I’ve never met a silk sheet I didn’t want to ruin

 

and, at home,

the fingerprints disappearing

from your grandfather’s coat

 

the way we carve people out like water through a rock face

the way we read it on their faces

like laundry lines

like clouds


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