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PAPER AIRPLANES

The cobalt
Streams
Underneath
The sun-glazed
Windows.

The candelabra
Is the same.

Unkempt.

Just as you left it.

When you last
Knocked on the door,
And gave a
Bouquet of orchids
To mum.

You trampled on
Her daisies
And dahlias.

Old fool!

You should
Have known
She had been
Trying to keep them
Alive for over two decades.

It was 8.05 when you left.

At 8.06,
She had wiped
Her face clean
With your old
Checked shirt that was
Hanging,
Clumsily
Behind the door.

My packed lunch
That day,
Was pathetic.
She had burnt
The lamb.

When I came home,
I kissed her.
Her skin was wet.
You did that.

And...
And...
And...

Her mouth
Smelled of the
Kind of stuff
You kept in a cellar,
Where you wouldn't
Allow me.
I felt dizzy in her arms
As I took
That sweet smell
Into my lungs and
Opened my nostrils wide
So I could get drunk.

But you know
How the mistrals
Used to
Bother her feet,
Don't you.

Last night,
She was under the
Sheets,
Shaking and ruffling
Her body.
Suffering from
The lack of your
Touch.

She remembers
Your collar.
Mumbles it,
Enunciates it,
Emphasises it,
Cries for it,
Thinks it,
Sleeps it.

Askew.

It had to
Be at that
Time
That her innards poured
Themselves on your
Slippers.

I have turned
The lights off
And locked the door.

I have been making
Paper airplanes
And sending it you.

I hope she's reached.
The journey is long.
Her wings are tired.

And...
And...
And...

[SNEEZE]




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