a secret life on the west
coast.
i'd see
the cuts
the bruises on her,
lipstick smeared,
her wrists
raw
with rope marks.
her hair
entangled
as she got off the plane.
rough
flight, i'd ask her
as she stood
at the curb,
no, she'd laugh,
and look
away, it was
more the about the landings
that occurred.
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