Like Shadows
J
James McLain
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Like Shadows
When ever it is possible,
you order the bird to peck out your eye with the beak,
you gasp, 'you cry, you grasp, it is all there,
the sun, the resin, the wood,
so hot that it burns you permanently my each cut, each tree
the earth is deep, it bleeds.
your face is so transparent.
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