Category Archives: edit 1

Three years three months and counting (edit 1)

Here, leaves are falling through glassy air, rustling, puddling in corners. There, you used to swim in the morning. At night you’d go out to the swing, and sit and talk to me, your cigarette smoke climbing the ropes, while … Continue reading

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Soft basket (edit 1)

A woven-grass basket slung over my shoulder, shaped like a plum but larger, holds a stone, a shadow self that comes and goes, some places where I touch the ground, a river, a sea, a hot-metal sun, a frigid moon … Continue reading

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The cut (edit 1)

See here, on my palm: a still-bloodied cut where a falcon’s talon grazed my hand. He’s off to look for prey. Never jessed,  he sits by me, or sometimes on my arm, turning side-to-side. Alert to motion, he goes to feed in moon-lit worlds. … Continue reading

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Three babes (edit 1)

Three babes in snow-lightning, warmed in love, asleep in my arms, pine-honey sweet cheeks soft against my palms, their years, my hours.

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Clouds, like Toledo (edit 1)

Riding southeast down the Major Deegan, about a mile below the George Washington Bridge, there’s a heaven of driven clouds, like El Greco’s Toledo. The clouds rise over the river and the hills of Manhattan beyond. On the bluffs, the … Continue reading

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Prescriptive (edit 1)

If happiness is honey-like, so thick that it tickles or makes you choke, if happiness is wine-like, a smooth swallow and a short-lived high, if you’ve defended yourself from joy, and now you’re breathing faint for want of it, the … Continue reading

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The value of dissolution, part 2 (edit 1)

Chhoti Bahu, she of the biggest eyes and motion most honey-like, begs you to stay. Here is she: bound by your space, still at your whimsy, her desire ‘broidered and enfolded in silk, now softened to the lateral by draughts … Continue reading

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Like a fall of earth (edit 1)

Like a fall of earth
in a tiny cavern
made by a beetle,
like a raindrop
making no splash
on a delicate leaf…
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Summer in three movements (edit 1)

Prelude and theme Summer washes me with rain, dusts me with grains of sun, gilds me with honey-colored light. Dressed-up evenings come, to pull me, refreshed and dazed, down into dreams that fog up, and disappear somewhere between here and … Continue reading

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Simple (edit 1)

In your hands, I’m simple now — just fields of black India-ink laid on rice-paper cream, a heroine in skintight garb. There — you’ve drawn a line, an arch where my ribs would be, a stroke to cut my skin, … Continue reading

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