I watched you
copy the way she ate,
And your children
would not kiss her.

He and I would sit
in the Blair Witch sauna
to talk about India
and I would take his hand
when he could not breathe.

You marked out the vase
with a nod,
But I wanted the girl
on the bank,
combing combing combing
out the years.

That girl will comb through my life,
At number 23.

Enjoy the vase.

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