(for Modiegi McCall Garside)

we made love
hard, tenderly
outside the
box
by the book

and it was good
and I have no problem
telling you about it
because we
were married

bonded bodies
in the eyes of God

but then
heads clashed; we
came unstuck

and you ground me to dust
to paste, to powder
or to flour

there are things you have to endure
to become a poet of suffering

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