Guillotine Reds and India-Ink Blacks
I envy others a lot.
Envy real hard.
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I’d like a small white home
With a small kitchen,
With a just-enough bedroom.
Enough for a queen bed and chest of drawers.
A white-walled living room.
Empty but for an empty, white ceramic coffee cup.
You know, like the ones you find in truck-stop diners.
An empty coffee cup that I can place on top of a white fireplace mantle
Next to a single red and black cowboy boot.
A Stendahl boot. A boot that dreams French dreams.
Of revolution. Of Danton and Rouget de Lisle
Of Darnay, Carton and Manette.
Guillotine reds and india-ink blacks
Her boot.
With her initials, “R.W.” stitched into the back
A single boot alone
With a single silver spur.
A single silver spur.
An empty boot alone
That I can fill with artificial flowers.
Wait.
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I miss R.W.
I miss her something fierce.
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