Peach Woman


She’s saying

I wish there could be a metaphorical

investigative committee

and I’m saying

therapy or a priest?


and, behind us,

the excellence of bright children


and, on our walk home,

the left glove


and I’m saying

I’m fueled by kissing and crimes

against the environment


and she’s saying

the cat shaped depression in this cushion


the necessity of the cat


and I’m saying

I’ve never met a silk sheet I didn’t want to ruin


and, at home,

the fingerprints disappearing

from your grandfather’s coat


the way we carve people out like water through a rock face

the way we read it on their faces

like laundry lines

like clouds

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