Ricardo Sternberg

He wanted throats constricted, / speech impeded, eyes rimmed red, / the room brimming with tears

Was it within the song / or within himself

When she left, / then returned, / a determined look / on her wet face, / he assumed she’d / come to retrieve / something forgotten

Truth be told, I wish she would unkiss me, turn me back into the frog I was and happy being. Give me back nights I dared the moon, fat and …

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