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Socks

For James

By Angie DoePublished 5 years ago 1 min read
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The first time I hugged him

And the last time

Smelled the same.

Tide pods and uncertainty

Of how long to linger

How much to squeeze

To rub my back

Or let his hand drop

Meet my eyes with a smile

Before he looked away

For the first or last time

The beginning saw us both in Vans

He handed mine back to me

In a bag at the end

And shoved my heart into

One of the foot holes

like bundled socks.

heartbreak
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About the Creator

Angie Doe

A poet dealing with the daunting realities of entering my 30s as a black woman with a less than ideal love life in New York City during a pandemic. These are pieces of myself that I’m finding and trying to put together cohesively.

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