Monday, Aug 15, 2022
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Poem: The Lévi-Strauss Kind Of Love

Our shadow has flatfoot and it rolls down/to the estuary of obscure.

Today comes after the day of love.
Today comes after the day of love. Shutterstock

We stand in each other’s shadows,
and as the sun tilts we form one
big footprint seems of a left foot,
left on the hill-slide street.

This dusk I feel like a thief; 
my love steals a bit of glee
from the world suffering.
My pleasure, a kleptomaniac, 
sighs out its guilt.

Today comes after the day of love.
(We mock those love-specials 
if and only if we miss it see 
the friends’ posting pictures, emojis,
and secrecy fogs our regrets.
This, our structural disdain, the way
we witness a sunset and hate
the darkness it ushers in, 
as if loving sadness is possible
while hating those things weigh down
our shoulders, eyelids, keep us your beds,
this I fathom, fall for, offer you gift-wrapped.

Our shadow has flatfoot and it rolls down
to the estuary of obscure.

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