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What We No Longer Know


ISSUE:  Autumn 1999
Whether the severe theater of your shadow
breaks into ravens or is broken into crows.

Whether morning makes a list of last night’s weapons,
or if warmth is any kind of reminder.

Whether the night is a wide car worth driving.
Whether angry water makes martyrs of the stones.

When exactly fear, crushed by your feet
as you entered the room, gave off its slight odor.

When exactly you opened your mouth
and I saw the teeth of a laid trap.

If pieces of ourselves are darker when apart.
How my skin healed if it was never cut.

Whether open doors everywhere ever open further.
When two voices at once become the same voice twice.

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