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I kept ribbons
in the kitchen
to tie around my heart
weakness come familiar –
as sunday morning
a pudding cut with rum
who is there
to blame me
for moments without shame
allowing all
remembering of none
washed away
as evidence –
was here
I spent the night
pushed against
the oven –
clutching to a spoon
I kept my ribbons
close at hand
licked my fingers clean
braided into locks
of cappucine

. . .