the gap-toothed
girl sits by
the great lake,
her sweatered arms
hugging herself
against the cold.
Sometimes
I envision the two
of us
beneath the moon
and stars, the sun
and rain, even in
the driving now,
and we are looking
out across the water,
laughing our fool
asses off, the two
of us
skipping stone after
stone, one for
the luck of
being there and
one for each one
of our
dying dreams.
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