by Lisa Vihos
I bellied up
to that hard place
where you belly up
when you carry
the whole weight
of every sad, sick
thing that ever
happened to you
and ask to have it
rinsed off
in fire water
moonshine
one fifty proof something or other
I really don’t care what; just anything
to cauterize the
gaping wound
ripped open
every time
I have to see you
and think about
how we once were
and how we are
not now.
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