leave/live

doesnt matter how big it is
she’ll still leave without it
we might have all been strung
up
high on that tall world, sitting
down
on the bluff, rising and falling
at the mercy of a coming sea
at the whim of the beard she loves
groomed as it can be, trust me
she can live without it

no matter how pretty it
she’ll kiss it then leave without it
bye bye birdie 
all that remains are white powder
painted in yellow custard,
bye bye birdie
catch up to fridge old mustard
tube squeezed sitting on its head
she would have cleaned the caked spout
rubbed her finger over it like your mouth

you’re old, cold, an echo fridge chamber
but…
you can live without it
 

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