separations for unlikeness
father likes to say that touch has lost its mind. mother
be like hunger
and forget
nothing.
(the boy is the boy who teaches death
to read
and I am sad
for death
for years
(in the toy aisle, in a circus
restroom, at the roll
of my son’s
spotless
eye, and at the gate
of the all
girl
cemetery
(also shyly
in the more traditional
babies
of god
(their hesitant
fatigue
kingsoftrain 
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