That lips remember
more than toes,
for that kiss
purchased with betrayal
for a moment's bliss.
That half a century
can be dissolved
by the scent
of orange groves
on late april nights.
That warm arms
are more comforting
than well meant words.
That our world begins
and ends
-at the boundaries
of our skins.
That the scar on my left knee
from a farm house tumble
still itches when the weather is
as hot and dry as that
summer in the valley day.
That I have to mute the radio
if certain songs come up
before tears steal my vision
and my throat.
That I can only fly in dreams
but I still recall the fall
when the branch of the cottonwood
snapped
and I landed on my back
breathless, alive, unhurt.
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