I didn't know she died of you
that day we walked her on the beach-
her midnight blue, lycra pantsuit
swishing as her legs cut toward to water.
Off to the side my flannel bottoms stayed
tucked into winter boots.
The moist sand gave way beneath her weight.
The waves lapped at thin ankles,
bulging calves, stretched thighs,
round-melon bottom,
paunch, chest, jawline
hairline.
You must have been back on the rug by then.
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