he hates driving in the rain
says it reminds him
of air-brushed birds
a small white car and pieces
of a prom dress ragging
out of shattered glass
like a dove’s broken wing
how they pulled her out
through holes cut in the roof
blood sweating from the leaves
of the pink corsage pinned over her heart
he told me for weeks
his dreams had been filled
with poppies and crows
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