sundowningA Poem by h d e rushinshe didn't have much in her flat; milk crates for furniture, a few can goods from her last visit to the pantry. An X-con lover who threatened to hit her is she told. We raised our eyebrows when we heard his name on the radio. His underarms were hairy where he rubbed his Old Spice must he have been like the brown bear that found the bark of an old elm?? Mermaids have real emotions she told us. He had a long line of needle tracks where he/we use to shoot up smack over the donkey tattoo with the arrow thru it's beak. It's the first of August and we've not seen a single lady bug all year. Covid my daddy says. But she told my sister that she loved him, the way he kissed the nap of her neck; the way his jeans sagged: sometimes the morning doves aren't really in search of anything, just singing. He tore her new pantyhose on purpose. "You crazy" we/he would say. But ain't it funny how loneliness drips like the glisten from the cicles in the room that Walt Whitman shared? How it appears like sun-downing until even the poet believes that the radio is the dawn rising and darkness is nothing but an empty room. Don't bother trying to understand what another person means by love. And if you do, i don't know what else to tell you.
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5 Reviews Added on August 3, 2020 Last Updated on August 3, 2020 Author
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