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Poetry

About the Weather

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“where women with aspirations / spread salve onto the muscles // of grown men they call Baby, / where bean walkers piss steam // into the last half-hour before / dawn”

Poetry

Fig

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“A fig without its juice is just / the waist of a woman, honey / butter.”

Poetry

A Body in a Room

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“A body flooded in night light, a room whispering.
A body until it had no more thoughts, utterly a body.
A room very long and very deep. A body of soft striped light.”