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CR Jun 2012
my natural eye, and your new hip moon
and your hips, sharp hip bones and forgetting that
I could use somebody—
you never forget

the floor with imperceptible scratches
our bootsoles tracking cold sand and—

where we buried the key
you never forget

I like when you sneak glances
at my paper, at my tongue

I miss the shudder in my knees when
we passed the City skyline
it was better than the first time

you never forget

— The End —