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Archive for April 23rd, 2010

By Charles Bane Jr.

We both came bare
to a crossing way; I think
empty arms collect
greater sprays that visitors
find, when entering a hall. They
do not see what’s gathered
and stood together in a vase
of crimson glass to dispel
the other’s shadow. It was
wise to wait until I found you
painted in reverse on grass
to bring you home. Look
what swells of light stream
into the parlor. They entered
our plain house with you.

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