Ice cream pail, 7-Eleven bag lining
Brims with condom wrappers
Torn diary pages
And soiled tissues from used-up lungs;
Twigs and pine needles from riverbank
adventures sprinkled amongst
Blots of tie-dye, empty gel caps
Crowned with a fine dust of powder.
All of it sticky
This heap of discarded relics
Still betrays the poetry
in her soul.
I would give anything for adventure if you would give everything for love.
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