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November 24, 2017

I don’t know the kind of house it would be, in architecture or floor plan

I never could get close enough to go inside and admire our decor

our trappings.

To begin with, I don’t know how to conceptualize our


front yard and fence

a leaf blower

him changing the oil bringing in mail taking out garbage and me

cleaning out refrigerator

matching Tupperware to their lids.


I have never been inclined to sequels for any given moment.


I ask you now to suspend judgement as we trespass on property,

perhaps yours,

trip upstairs

suspend your piety as he pushes me against fresh paint as if

you left only hours ago

eggshell honeymilk slipper satin paper white

suspend your unspoken covenants here –

(nobody has moved in yet)


the window swells his stomach and neck, consequently my hands and mouth in


as in silk and sealace, ivory, bone and cream sousing all parts of our selves

in that high brightness

flat floor and oblique walls are all the same to us

my hair my shoulders in the small of my back, white smoke, my ghost white backside gives us away

sometimes there is no way

to see what happens next.


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