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A Fawn

By Ludmila Polyakova

She keeps her delicates
inside the freezer

on rib bones that could snap so easily
the faucet cries slow drips all day

the pilot light growls and purrs
and bedsheets fold into each other

a warm pillow next to its quiet, cold brother
whispers questions to the ceiling

about height,
who sighs,

just floorboards.

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