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  • there are mornings like this:

    a cup of green tea
    some bittersweet chocolate

    we sit on the rooftop
    reading the New York Times

    in the garden the hydrangeas
    are blooming

    blue & violet afros

    there are nights like this:

    the flannel sheets
    the foghorn

    lying in bed in the lascivious
    hours before dawn

    watching you sleep.

    there are afternoons like this:

    the beach with the sandstone cliffs
    we nap

    the ocean is blue-green-grey
    you swim

    diving into the verdigris waters

    a kite billows in the wind

    surfacing you stand scissoring
    your arms

    the sun darkens your skin
    like cumin

    and there are entire days like this:

    where nothing happens
    but happiness

    in a minor key
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