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August Sweat (Part I)

August Sweat (Part I)

May 28, 2021

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Cliff Walk at Pourville, Claude Monet

Long ago we smoked cigarettes in our cramped quarters

Thousands of miles apart,

Talking of Chopin and love.

We talked about a summer rain that fell upon a lighthouse.

We heard a dying man play on the record,

A man who sounded like tears.

 

You swam through all that’s heart, and

Our tattered pleas were sewn to the hem of your rose-stained garb.

We told one another that night

Tales of our flesh, chronicles of courtship

Chiseled beside jabs in ache.

And you told me thus, in a wry whisper:

“Affection is loneliness in grace.”

 

We wrote songs in our lies,

About beautiful women and men veiled in drizzling veils

Of August mist, the September rain.

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