Jake's Flea Market

it never comes out the way it went in

in her den dark bedchamber nora

in her den dark bedchamber   nora
last night before the year ended
full bellied and empty bladdered   crept
in a thin snow of chemise   from her bedside
prayers up onto a thin snow of bedsheet

with every sundown begins a winter
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Jake de Peuter

~things to put in a poem, and things to take out of a poem~

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