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  • i keep wanting to go back again.

    this day, with the bike ride and the beanbag
    toss and the beer in beer glasses on the front lawn
    and you in goofy hats, happy, and the spring trying
    to be spring. how perfect

    that it was april. eliot would've been proud
    of us, forging memories that we didn't even know
    we'd want to go back and get

    like running back into the house, quickly
    to get a jacket left hanging
    on the hook.

    is it cruel to have had that only to have
    this now?

    the trees we saw budding then
    are now preparing to disrobe and slip
    into something more…what?

    i take bulbs and place them in paper bags
    in the refrigerator in the basement, to force
    another april on us instead of what we'll have.

    hyacinth and narcissus trying to get back
    to a time when all was far less
    cruel.
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