I sent a word to the store, told it
to come back with some meaning
and when it returned crying,
defiant, I sent it to the cleaners,
whipped out my thesaurus,
while implying we would be seeing
each other again in another sentence.
Though reluctant, it left, taking
the whole goddamn utterance we shared
like a crab and its shell.
I stared blankly, traced the trail
of it absence with my literary eye,
which, by now, was red and puffy.
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