by David Calbert

I found your bobby pin
Slid absently in my jacket sleeve
I brought it to my nose
Hoping it retained a whisper
Of your perfume

I have dreams that I’m
        A river
Bastard body scooping
Muddy fingernails through
A dry riverbed
In the valley of Apotheosis

The thirsty dust sizzles and shrieks
Like pork fat bubbling in a skillet early Sunday morning
Grease trap to catch discarded
Cartilage that dreamed of once
Hardening into bone

I found your bobby pin
As blameless as a wasp sting
It sang off my buttons
But gave away nothing

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