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patron saint MAG
I want to creep into your life
like sunlight through half-lidded blinds.
the settled dust on your bookshelf, and the unfinished projects
in your basement. to see my toothbrush
next to yours, and my cardigans smelling
of melted wax and pomegranate. your empty gum wrappers in my trash bin, your grin
in every curved line I etch.
the atmosphere pale
and cool, each breath quivering,
with your eyes crisp
in the autumn dusk.
to be your patron saint
on scabbed knees,
brushing the fallen leaves
off your hair,
I’ll dig the crucifix out from
my closet and
tie it around my neck. and when
i come over,
I’ll feed your houseplants and
when I leave I’ll sweep my footprints off of your chalky front porch.
your god watches us from the rusted backyard swing,
vigilant.
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