this love is like
sand through my fingers
sand stuck sparkling
to the sweat of my palms
rolling along behind me like breadcrumbs
with the swing of my pendulum arms.
grains stuck in the crack of this book
shifting by daylight again when
innocent hands reopen to a stranger’s
preserved old flower-petal heart
story.
grains in the creases of my pants
getting hung in backs of closets
being folded into boxes and tumbling out next
year, like sun from behind
quilted vapors.
grains behind my ears, I feel them
in the shower.
this love is splitting and drifting
about, directionless,
eroding with the wind
uncontained
sweet
gritty.

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