Martha, baby, you’re so beautiful Apr01


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Martha, baby, you’re so beautiful

Martha, baby, you’re so beautiful.
A muffin on the countertop.
A cigarette lighter, pink, well-used.
I remember your red
Bike and the swing rope
With the stick.
You built it
All on your own.
The smell of sweat, the nice kind, like work.
I never destroyed it.
I think of the construction outside and those men who have wives

And those who don’t.
And now I feel your absence,
Though you say
You’re here in the kitchen
The cash register’s broken
And you’re using an old biscuit tin that says “Royal.”
And that tattoo
That circumnavigates your pretty ankle.