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The Autumn Pearl
(for Annie)

This day is our history.

It is only eleven

and a dark ice-coated evening.

We speak many words with eyes

in our silence holding hands,

and we say ‘Goodbye’

by a steel cold car

in a Bank Street parking lot,

and you find a vacant

space among the hairs

on my face,

kiss me quickly

and you are gone.

© Asoka Weerasinghe