On Air-drying

In the middle
of an empty parking lot
lake water pools
in my leather boots

these are the little ways
I still ask you to haunt me

You were the first
time I discovered pain
ruby and leaking
through its waxed paper

I named us the only girls
to ever be that sad
and it was
bigger than screaming

There are nights
I let you soak
through denim and wool
just to remember how to wail

These are the little spells
undone in Sunday laundry

A yellow sleeve
faded in the sun

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