Goodbye
After you have told your lover goodbye,
you lean into days gone:
the unkissed mouth, the bed still made,
cotton caressing cotton caressing cotton.
You move through the unheard-of night,
kneel on the eternal front stoop.
The porch swing moves
to the evening's soft exhale.
In the damp heat of a Southern night,
you feel breath on your neck, turn
to see air still moving.
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