games
in those days
we played soft and vicious
carried with us
the smell of singed wool
burnt rubber soles
and crayon wax on woodstoves
huddled collusion
snowballs stockpiled to harden
against the back wall of the fort
covert sensual knowledge
betrayed with a sudden intention
we hurled weapons against your small wall
and after it crumpled and fell
walked away
dorothy sjoholm
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