You sent me Om
while I was home, wondering
how many copper flecks
hide inside your eyes.
I was driving through Indiana
in October, thought of you and got lost
just moments after sunset; every color
of the irises of all the men I’ve loved.
You arrive by mail
and I am dazed in your swirl
and the shine of pinks and blues
that rest on all the petals.
I need you and you need me
and everything else is just an obstacle
until I can get to you, pull at your shirt
and love you in person.
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