Poppies

dusty poppies murmuring
an apology to someone
I’ve yet to meet.

two by two
they rest
on a cracked, worn windowsill.

I count the ridges
across my nails
and feel a fighting blemish.

you proceed to argue
with fleeing clownfish,
felt in the sky.

I tug you back
as you lick a petal
expecting clumsy dreams.

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2 thoughts on “Poppies

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