Tangible

Drunk on his
aftershave
such a subtle
aftertaste

she’s wasted
on memories
of his
sandpaper face

it brings her
to another place
in
time

when reason rhymed

when it
did not
hurt
to day-to-day

when she
did not
have
to look for paste

to glue his
trace
into
something once

tangible

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