Twenty-Year Marriage

(for Ai)

Beside me in bed her arm
crosses the arch of her nose,
and I think:  Radishes,
She is the color of radishes.

Once we hovered above our bed.
A kiss like a paper cut
brought us back.

Now, I slip from sleep
and tie her to helium balloons.

Her weight is unimaginable.

I lean out the window and watch
the red dots falter, ache,
and disappear.  

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