Dusty

man on a dusty road

My lover came over to visit with me last night. We’re mostly friends so we just talked. That’s how it is with lovers; free flow.

I noticed how cute he looked but his sweat pants had quite a few holes in them. I said, “What’s this about?”

He said, “I’m dusty but my soul is clean.”

This literally happened last night and he literally said this. After he left I went to a jazz gig downtown and my friend sang a tune brilliantly but first, she showed me a rip in her shirt at the hem. I take all of this to mean a broken heart is an open heart. A broken soul is a clean soul. I’m not sure it matters but they were both African American and very dear people to my heart. It all spills over.

 

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