poem #14

that time in the hall at grandma's
behind the saloon-style swinging doors
we rummaged through the game closet.
after we played a while
i got mad and said i hated you
,but then we got married
a week apart.
i couldn't go to yours
but not because i hated you
(i didn't, i don't)
;i counted the hours of my honeymoon
trying to find a way

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