The Evening After the Death of Pope Francis
my wife and I were making love,
our bodies warm in the decades
of knowing and touching,
our breathing soft, slow, and quickening -
her hand, relaxed and curled and tightening again
pulling me into rigidity,
when suddenly she said,
"Did the Pope die of old age or do you think Vance had something to do with it?"
And I replied,
"At this particular moment, I really don't care."
And we laughed and we laughed
and then we got down to bidness.
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