discussing work
glowing with pride
all that excel-sheet stuff
it was bad enough
to have their team go easy
dirt stinging in his wound
the second job I’ve taken
his heels dug in and pushed back hard
the tears were her way of expression
an oath cursed her love
they cried as children cheer
the doctors left ice on his wounds
evidently he moved around too much
a call to the coffee house
we hurried up and still barely
shut with a deep thud
as bits of ice fell away
she held the charts in her head
a sticker against the bottle
we were seeing Anna smile for the first time
she had a presence that is sure
thoughts clouded
cleaning with an old cloth
a weary sigh
refunded his thirty-five pence
and she felt her breath hiccup
she’d always hoped
we were the prisms
her eyes settled down
a hastily extinguished cigarette
the wound went deep
this place has no coffee shop
the answer? the pizza hut
right after the tollgate
they love the balloons

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