I sit and let my nose trickle
and it tickles
oh it does so tickle
in my nose
and down my throat

and yes 
the flowers smelled good
and the dog was soft

but oh the flowers tickled
my fingertips much more kindly

and the dog’s kisses 
were not quite so aggressive

as this tickle that persists
like a fickle cold— 

not quite sneezing
not quite breathing 
through my nostrils

but the sky was blue
and the grass so fragrant
and so I think tomorrow, 
tonight will be worth it,

because sunshine makes 
me forget the sneezing

and the tickles don’t trickle
to my nose until the day is done
and flowers have been sniffed
and dogs have been kissed.


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