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Frail Bridges

Behold, an eyelash troubled

by its own beating. Forgive

this nuisance—a man caught

between two brown diphthongs

and the hips of a slow tongue.

Before the light, there was enough

light. And after the light,

we were naked. Leaf atop leaf.

A turtle chewing through the branches

of a hyssop bush, the moon

disappearing into its mouth.

Somehow, I’ve wandered away

from our bed of stem and snail, wandered

from this town of small phone booths

and homing pigeons lost in the cold

belly coos of their lovers. What war

keeps me from saying Please, please

do not wash your hair tonight.

We are still trying to find each other.

from King MeFind it in the library

Copyright © 2013 Roger Reeves
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Published in Poems Roger Reeves

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