SHE WAS AS TALL AS THE EIFFEL
On the journey back,
riding on a lonely track
beat-up.
My memories of you
are packed deep inside
a sack.
I never knew your mouth
or your soil. I never
knew your fingering.
Begging
lonely men you begged
me, and I gave you
something then.
I can't remember
which or what
or when.
Or if it was
something I once sent.
But is it time?
You left them
abruptly.
And is it true about
the merchant?
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