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Build A Fire
By J. Bradley

I was a master of bad timing.
I put this on my resume along with
“Rice Krispie Treat counterfeiter”
and “sloppy kisser.”

When I’m around you, my body
is not fluent. I muzzle my hands
with pockets and teeth.

Once, I lost a fight against
a green plastic chair. Failure
is my chief export.

Loving me can be an accidental
contact sport.

These are not a draft of my vows,
warning signs. I’m making contacts
out of these facts for you.


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