Take this - patchwork chambers of a heart worn
on a faded denim sleeve. Take needle and thread.
Take off the pieces and dredge them in soap to
wipe the smell of his cologne from you.
Take a run while it soaks - limber legs longing
to take the memory of something other than
his hands, huff out his name in the scorch
of your lungs. And then, at the peak of the trail,
press your back into the rough skin of an oak,
stationary, and take his name from the
vault of your mouth. Take it out and let
the wind take it from you.
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