Afternoon on a Lake
We wrote poems in cigarette smoke,
or sex
as it ran down the side of a boat
intertwined in water
from a dammed-up lake,
forced to exist.
Ash singed the pages,
humid moonlight
that burned our hands
until we could not touch.
drops hit the glass surface,
coerced water rippled.
Debris floated in wet air,
forth and back
and back
we reached for pieces
as they dissolved
into rain.
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