After Regret by Sue Chennette.
Slow waltz. Night train.
Jinx of a silver sedan
flipped at the crossroads.
One chink and it all
pours through. Life I mean.
Scratched valise, tracking back
through the underbrush,
your cologne that rots paint:
a trail of molecules and old
synaptic dust. Tonight
we must make the next
house, the next field -
take cover before the heat
comes down on us.
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