Mag Gabbert

                    sometimes people write poems

                    about fire that are really

                    about lovemaking

                                                                                                    and sometimes people get

                                                                                                    sunburned while swimming

                                                                                                    because they think

                                                                                                    they should’ve felt the heat

                                                             as a kid I liked to press

                                                             my hand against sheets

                                                             of paper and trace my fingers

                                                             to draw little stars

it’s true that I call you

an old flame even though

I still reach

across the dark

                                                                                                    at night when you turned on

                                                                                                    my street I could see

                                                                                                    the lit trail

                                                                                                    of your cigarette sparks

you would say let’s just see

where things lead

then my body would

become a satellite or stream

                                                             the way the sun beams

                                                             off the face of the moon

                                                             as they rotate apart

                                                                                                    one time I curved

                                                                                                    my hands together in arcs

                                                                                                    and you held up your fist saying no

                                                                                                              this is the heart


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