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JUI".anne Marie Lechman
two quarters
got you six
sugary ounces of our weekly
truce-toasting coffee, and escaping
steam you caught in your left
(or maybe
your right
hand) ? while the stiff-lipped
paper cup seeped dark
heat, stung
the fleshy tips
of your fingers. You wagged
them in stale air
like spent matches,
blowing out
a curse
on the breath
that rippled my black drink,
cooling the first sip
of the morning.
