MANDALAYA
I've lost the soapstone with which
to hone : the only one on board
this ship. No longer holy. I quit.
-
Walking 4 miles more to bring
this home - I can hardly hang
on to this bag. Alone.
-
To my left, 98 Salter Street, where
we used to play poker for pennies.
Across from that Bonnie Renner sat.
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My mind here is filled with memories.
Remedies, like memories, act the balm
and salve the wound. Unrequited.
-
The furtive womb? The idea of this
love? Again chasing shadows with
these lamb-skin gloves? No. No.
-
No more of that will do.
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