the dining table

the dining table
for the rest of our
lives, our first and
last, arrived
at sixteen minutes
past four this
afternoon, a
seventy-year-old
danish lady, with
a few wrinkles and
countless stories
tucked into
her sleeves, wrapped
carefully against the
first of december’s
chill, stepping out onto
the curb, in the
arms of gentle robert
.
20211201:2032
y

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