river rat: An honest oversight

Sound from the briar on a cold night
strayed me from the path, across the rough,
into your arms.

It was your leg, twitching, falling against
dried pampas grass. I thought it an invitation
to heaven.

In my car there’s a blanket I said, urging
you up, to return my kiss, accompany me.
You remained silent.

I named you Lenore
and took your wallet
as a souvenir.

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floyd ";chunk"; simmons is dead.				whistle stop

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