a matter of preference
howie good
Wouldn’t you rather
we walk down
avenues of rain
trading verses from Poe
like black roses
and only take
our best memories
with us and the small
butterfly tattoo
on the back of your neck
wouldn’t you rather
the government
forgot our faces
our names and when
we’re faraway
and finally beyond
the boom of waves
wouldn’t you rather
I put my hand
in the flame
between your legs
well I would
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