At Blank House In Suburbs

Where are we in this empty room

I reach out to you

We’re not being
the ones in the track houses

We’re not being there

Nothing is being there
where
the beige bricks and the beige walls
could not
have held our marriage together

Where is this heavenly building
for your blue eyes

A place worthy of gold and infinite

The blood within my human
human heart

The tiered gardens and the colonnades
of much better civic planning

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