Sometimes, if I look hard enough
I can just see her.
There --
a crooked smile, hand on one hip,
standing tall in high heels or platform sneakers.
She will be happy here for a time
before the drought
before it all burns.
I try to call out to her,
but what would I say if she could hear me?
Do not trust these days,
they will turn to acid in your veins?
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