Late.
the last time
I would ask
-do you love me?
with him
horrid wait only
in the end a
-lost
air bag question.
now reposed
at five twenty five
-I had to
be sure
and what
cruel foot
chalked hand,
gaping maw, my God
-I am sorry.
my eyes
show the scale at
less three fourths
an ounce.
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