Tenderly

“Before I went to work we were under the olive tree and

you were doing what you called psych patient smoking

and you said, I don’t want to be Satan but will you join

me and we pulled up our shirts to rub bellies and yours

was so much flatter but filled with garden bread anyway

anyway up went our shirts, solar to solar plexus, and it

was a comforting ritual we daily did and I said, Let’s do

this for the rest of our lives. You said, You look lovely.

It’s hard to remember tender things tenderly.”

Bough Down, Karen Green

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