Sober Winter
Waiting on a slow line at dinner hour | air hunger befalls me, symptomatic | of nothing less than a moral panic. | Life’s too short for gas station flowers and boxed wine
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Gathering Rose Petals
to be romantic
to steep in bath water
to float in a cupped hand
to read into
to press in a book and forget
to remember today more than other days
to remember what I like to do
to remember who I like to give rose petals to
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okay poetry 