bwg poem – a laundry list

lilts about
laughing in tones
full of warmth and red
resilience that indeed
they’re laughing again and then.
She considers the silence the
gaps and pauses and can’t help but view her

and umms as
breezing, yes breathing…
cuz honestly she
wanted to wake in the
crook of his neck, suspended
in a growing night. He knew
that up she grew in these moments of
repose, and so he granted her patience,
painted her in purple laughter, and paused…
pulsating beside her words, loading
up on the life they made

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