unwashed
August 31st, 2001When it was least expected,
the very stars we sat under
and wished upon
turned
like the family dog
gone rabid.
My words,
selected with painful caution,
were too careless for your
silent heart.
The rain beats harder still
upon the metal chimney
by my window,
but it will
not
be
washing
tonight.
My barriers, alongside yours,
will remain,
so
many
inches
away.
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