Love, love, love, love, love
was the word no one would say,
lips wet with it.
Instead, we whispered each other's names,
like a promise.

She has his mouth, my eyes. Her eyes,
asking me to look at his mouth.
I look into your eyes, dark,
fringed like my baby's eyes
like mine.

She asked me if it was ok to give her daddy flowers.
I said, "Of course," and smiled as she walked away,
hands full of dandelions.


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