a conversation with my wife

your mum’s a drawing in magic marker
carbonated serum
her hand under the highest plum on the tree
chugging alongside the train
her face a basket of tentacles you forgot when the sun went down
three coins in the fountain he-goat mounting her thighs
oh so pretty in the faint aroma of years
pass me another revolver this one’s soft
balcony balcony
chuck her over the side and let’s go for a beer

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