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the 2am call

Poem by Dakota Parks

Published by Troubadour, 2021

Watching water swells crash against yacht docks
on the top floor of her beach condo,
she walks onto the balcony
wind nipping at the towel
wrapped around her body
handing me a cup of coffee
and a bottle of her father’s brandy
the towel drops
a smile
long legs twisting around
rhythm rubbing between
hips kissing the guard rails
hair down, air drying in the salt
—the storm is getting closer
black clouds surrounding the island
as she dances
humming to a French melody
and I know
this is it for us
this is all we will ever be:
hidden in beach condos
New York apartments and
million-dollar vacation homes
she will call me,
between marriages,
heart breaks,
sleeping children,
sick family members,
and I will come to her,
to watch her dance, drink,
and fuck herself back together
in my arms,
whispering to me,
“I wish you were a man”
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