Eight years later the woman is given
a house for five months at the edge of town
in the desert. It’s August and the desert is green.
When rain falls, she drives beyond the dark clouds.
Past an antelope resting, legs under it,
head raised, white marks. Drives slowly around
a turtle. If the man lied about love,
or even if it was true, there was immense damage.
When she awoke she was at the beginning where
love ends. Beauty everywhere on the road.
Silence inside her body in the clear
Evening air, near the Mexico border.
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