TD4.2

I had no business reading your mail

you spoke little of her
and I pried less

but when you left the postcard
with its pleasantries
face up beside the guest towels
that you rolled with your
brilliant, brutal hands

I didn't look away

IWALY she signed her name
I will always love you

you are ashes now, friend

but she speaks, too, for me
as I roll this towel
and tuck it carefully aside

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