busted yolks at the Hi Life—coffee black
yearning to eventually be friends
fingers numb—winds slice
unapologetically through to bone
five months later I walk your dog
it feels strange to be in your apartment
you still display that painting—
that one of the bicycle we made
on my birthday
but now it is accompanied by
a new painting—
something more abstract—messier
I did not stare at it long.
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