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>What the vicious side saw past thorns
past nothing protecting unsteady skin
a single stone kicked
down & loosing the hands’ avalanche

greasy fingers rub against
bottled reaction, bubbling red
this one look, snow-shape wrapped
around something that once
cast breath. So often, I can tell what something is not:

sewing needle
starving joy
mother love or contempt
strapless black bikini
jacket wrapped, goose feathers
a thing part of the original garment.

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