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Unformatted text preview: that blows the house before it in full sail. We are at sea together in the woods. The air chill enough for the quilt, warm and sweet as cocoa and coconut we make love in the morning when there's never time. Now time rains over us liquid and vast. We talk facing, elastic parentheses. We dawdle in green mazes of conversing seeking no way out but only farther into the undulating hedges, grey statues of nymphs, satyrs and learned old women, broken busts, past a fountain and tombstone in the boxwood of our curious minds that like the pole beans on the fence expand perceptibly in the long rain. ©...
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- Spring '08
- weather, twenty-one tea kettle