ImageIV. Heat
Cool and dark in the living room.
I wonder what I could ever say about him that could ever make sense.
 Curtains drawn. T. V. rattles on in other room.
Then step outside.
a broiling sun drenches everything lush smells waft by, dust,
candy, purple flowering bush cheap aftershave, more flowers gentle reek of the garbage bin
heat stinging shoulders and cheeks gravel crunches its too too hot
go back inside, slam door, lock it.
“Why do women stay with a man like that?” T.Y. interviewer, therapist
the inevitable question.
“Love doesn’t come by very often, “I’d be alone … you know …
“He wasn’t like that when I met him of course. “
Raging fields.
a chemical history
mirth among attending monsters
Maiden alone, holding the sign of
the thin iron cross
in the lilac twilight.

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