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Poetry

Here, in the face of the made,
Abandon me. In the dark

Where firelight licks
Stone walls, begin. I draw

My spear and take most
Careful aim. Draw the buck

The spear is looking for.
What if it’s all

In my head? I can carry
The whole mountain there,

The striped cat stalking
My shadow. I know what

It feels like to share a skin,
Blood in my heart. Did I

Start with an idea of beauty
Or only end there? When

Weather turns and famine comes
It will be enough.


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