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ISSUE:  Summer 2016

The first time you swallow—
the light, lurid and cold—

you know you mean
to swallow—again and again—

a woman’s voice crawling and heavy
in your body, trying to escape.

Stay calm. You cannot let go.
There isn’t an abstraction
you believe in and you are sad for it.

You need a mission to return to,
you need a flock to follow.


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