in the nightstand next to my soul

I left you in my drawer of
forgotten monsters
where photographs so
urgent in their moment
lay curled against neglect there
is the Kama Sutra &
other Sanskrit dabblings
Dashiell Hammett &
love letters lacking the
heft of punctuation & the
catholicon of desire

my first wife was the
second cook at a
third-rate joint on 4th Street
scribbled across a Starbucks napkin &
your roughly forged iron nails
in a relic jar

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