Some years
Didn’t want any more surprises
on the couch
with dog
a three-word Moroccan spice
spring
came today it was just a click like
the future’s snapped fingers
like how she does she does some years
like she didn’t want to miss poetry
month either party
girl
meanwhile today’s code continues
shredding yesterday’s careful knit
someone has to be
be the last to know
decipher one long walk
city swanning until he stepped
on the trick door in the sidewalk
and dropped quick, scraped leg,
rust spot on the corduroys and
clambering up, brushing and
why did you laugh, he said
but I had waited and waited.
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