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Love poem.

I stopped the Ask in its track. It drew a long claw through the snow. It was a mute dart, fatal in the heart of the pillow. Before long, it became a dream. Everyone walked off, relieved.

The sun shelved itself in the dust. I lived in the closet and ordered the hangers out. Windows broke in the night, neglecting their frames. Doors, lanced through the jamb, lost their swing. I stopped the Ask from crawling from its casing. I stop the Ask again. It turns into a watch

on the one love of my life walking slowly from the pier. I loved his slowness, his consideration for the weaker planks, the struggling nails, bent at their necks, his respect for the huge silent children hunched over the sound, dangling. their wires down, hoping to hook a gill. I loved his quiet slant when he took his fingers to my jaw, pried the mouth open, and didn't start from what he saw.
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Author:Lynch, Alessandra
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Date:Mar 1, 1993
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