Her:

i heard the pavement stones
when they caught in my luggage wheel.

indignant clicking,

little sounds denting one body in a queen-sized bed.
they told me stories of other lovers who didn’t make it
and blamed them.

“it was the pebble that made you deadweight,
the pavement’s unkindness that broke the wheel.”

i forgot the “Fragile, Handle with Care” labels.

stones don’t read though.
how would they
know?

Him:

DAY 2

Posted by:jasmine

Jasmine is an editor, poet, and community arts organizer. She comes to poetry by way of Chinese music. This blog is a mapping of ways.

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