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I see you in the Pond drowning the mast spun in backwards
& no matter how fast the oar makes fat of the water I never reach you you sail past me silent
lips straight eel grass towards the shore my breath kerosene
there is
a woman at the butcher in the same uniform she's wear to church— a little younger than you, with sparrow wings biting the barbed wire between flags — ash as under eye; understanding in undress only;