shirt soaked
grime under his fingernails
slumped in the truck’s
front seat my gardener
leans out the window
smiles and asks over
the idling engine
and I think to myself
how difficult it must be
to tell her himself
drained at the end of
another 10-job day
so I reply OK
knowing he’d like for her
a special treat
something she’ll
never expect
something like
a diamond
cut from words
he cannot say
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