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Poem: The Messages 

The Black Keys play “Her Eyes Are A Blue Million
Miles.” It is the night before Christmas Eve
and she found me, pushed me into
the kitchen and whispered loud, “Here, the dining room,
or up against the wall.”
The kids are watching
It’s a Wonderful Life and I’m typing.
Life is a river, wind-shaken limbs under stars,
a wonderment, a message, plain
and simple, one caress then another, then
death, and all the messages.

And a soft bed. And her touch.

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