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From Michael Wasson:

February 1, 2020

10. Here on my knees I look for the single animal: you left
ravaged at the edge of a meadow

9. Is everything accounted for? The fingers dipped
beneath the torso—to keep this body bright

8. Every breath we are desperate to take
sounds as if a war lost against a country of promise

7. Discarded halos: the light you remember
in your head—you feed on what is crushed between the teeth

Countdown as Slow Kisses

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