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Year

behind a curtain
the child
peeks beneath a mirror

~~

BARK
and then
I write

~~

almost
almost
not enough

~~

feet move
while muffled clothes
collect the sun

~~

the dog’s tail
wagged until
she lost her bone

~~

a stranger enters
the gate
his eyes
a naked core

~~

The brittle wood had
hollowed. The boy carved until
it was two.

~~

Arise!
For justice
is in your heart.

~~

He was blind
until the wine
that gave him spine

~~

the sweet smell
of rolled tobacco
hints demonic smoke

~~

A fly that flips
and dives in random drives
if only it would find
the time to die

~~

unmapped land
inside the bugle calls
we lay down and rest

~~

she weeps, she sighs
in passion there she lies
her atoms and space
in silk and lace



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