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When your done running
For errands
You should come back
To vacation

You
With two dead husbands
One for each hand
I’ll hold them both
While your nude
And you’ll pray

One day and kiss
Cannoned into me
The next: today
Different, clysmic

You
With two tears
One for each dead eye;
I put your hair back
From your face
Then
Brushed your salted cheek
The stern of my first fingers

Don’t worry

You looked; You turned away
and I right there
Left in the yard