bird of prey
pieces gathered
bits of twigs
white straw wrappers
for the nest.
there were years
even decades
with little but a
tease of mercy taunting
come back, come back
we are waiting.
in the afternoon
he would trade you
his for yours.
a heart, a smoke,
a frigid kiss
it never mattered
in-between the subdivisions
of existence.

Mia Moore
 
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