27 February 2014


his heart is made
of marshmallow fluff and
bundles of old disposable razors

he is
but the
kind of tall that is
noticeable from a distance,
like a politician
or a sitcom father.

and on the
sunniest day
of the whole
long, icy winter
he drove her
to the path
under the canopy
of bare Tennessee pines,
kissed her neck-
and grabbed her waist-
not softly-

breathe in and out
rustle on the leaves
feel the air 
             on faces and fingertips

he smells like clove and honey.

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