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I had a disease. Also I was drowned, also saved.


Put your hand
on my heart, a solid or

solid phase.
This is the foresight.

You might think of smoking, singing together. . .

These were our neighbors, who rescued the injured.
The women are all barefoot,
the men too.

And he’s walking—
right into his shadow.
Arms extended, open as a field.


I have a lace veil on, and so does B, but we are not the bride.

”How are your eyes?” I say.  She asks me
if I want to see. But I know they are just holes now.



. . .


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