Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Confessional Valentine (for Paul)

I confess poetry
is my lover we meet
for ‘coffee’ as soon
as he can escape his wife
in a distant donut shop
of the heart conceived
out of wedlock a bit
creepy in a homey way but
I kid the fates those hirelings
it’s all been prearranged
it was really us who had them
bring us here to give
ourselves away to see
how we would do it
one more time

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