Timothy Liu

Sad Sonnet Done

Sometimes a halo, sometimes
armored with an electron field

of gnats at sundown, the gas

mower enlarging your carbon
footprint by at least two sizes

and the kid won't yet be grown

for a few seasons more. Please
know I kept the cigarette butts

you flung off the back porch

for as long as I possibly could
until a fuzzy beard of mold

overtook that vodka-soaked

memorialómy lips touching
down where yours had been.

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