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--- L E O N A R D   G O N T A R E K


We argued over the exact names of things. We argued over everything. Cock

still moist from you, you ran from the shower past tall row of windows.

Paperbacks, spines broken, flat to the floor. One of us hated that, don't remember who.

Right angle of light entering sky. Stars coming clear. We lay at opposite ends

holding each other. You imitated eternal drip of faucet. Stars spread, breeze blew in

curtains, drew them back out. As was the custom, you falling to sleep first.

I miss you, I admit. I reread all your letters. Lick where you licked along the edge of the envelopes.

© crossconnect 1995-1999 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania kelly writers house |