Wednesday, December 14, 2016

Lost Coverage

There is a tactile love
that grabs you in your sleep
A love of
kisses that once killed Keats

We live in a world of tailgating 
easy lovers
brashly hopeful for a fortunate accident

But the memory of touch 
is from a back-alley affair

the kind that makes overfull stomachs ache
and windswept hairs stand 
as we frigidly shake
Naked, uninsured

A blue-road accident
unwitnessed, unfortunate
leaves me nothing but a scar
in settlement

be warned that
a left-handed lover 
does not negotiate

for years to come you will receive
bills to remind you that
your damages 

must still be paid

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