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  • He was looking to begin at the end of love.

    He was looking for clues as to the epilogue, as he walked in.

    He said, I saw you at the end of the bar tonight.

    I said, It was mahogany and oh by the way do you like Warren Oates?

    He said, Two-Lane Blacktop, what else is new?

    He was looking for the crash and burn as he entered the doorway. He paused under the lintel as if expecting an earthquake, inland. He cast the kind of night shadow in a room which told you he had admired women's legs right up under the hem and he liked to look at old black and white photos.

    He was looking to start where things fall apart.

    And I thought, That is not such a bad place to be. Maybe when the ions eventually cluster in some kind of under the sheets muss and muster, and we trail along, in time we might head for the highway and as the sun goes down we could count our connection in dawns and dusks and eventually, a life later, begin.

    I was waiting in the shards of it all for his first hello.

    (Photo by Susan, Spain)
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