Turn to Respond

Poised to take on
another breathing

spell, I brush someone
else’s powdered
sugar off the orange

table. If I ran
into him now
in this rain, who
would ignore whom

first? Offer umbrella
shelter—a cheek
to kiss? He used to curse
me for answering
my own questions. Who’s

left? I am, I say.

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2 thoughts on “Turn to Respond

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