by Rebekah Love

    In the absolute darkness
    of your front porch
    I kissed you like I'd wanted
    in the gallery
    as I watched you pull
    prints of the bull snake
    who'd climbed the back
    of the tapestried chair
    at your old landlady's house
    and all I could see
    were your hands,
    your hands
    and the troops of crows gathered
    in the corners of your eyes
    from being too long out
    in the West Texas sun
    and I knew you then
    better than anyone before or since.

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