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I sit at the smooth cafe
and eat a scone that is
in your hand and on the
walls, the girls beside you
know that their sunglasses will
fly away with their tongues,
finding love in a sun glass
heaven and look back at them
reflecting a steel version
of their faces and the bones behind them
outlining in their minds blue on darker blue paper,
they laugh with brow movements and ask us how
long we’ve been together
and if we like it when
chord progressions go dark
or light and if our baby
will know how the fire in
heaven is drawn. And they whisper
things while looking at us
and my ring and the world ends
when I see though their clothes.