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Only

I cannot be known better than you
know me.

                         The night hatches
her face. Five fingers
open, five fingers
close as his heart pumps her
blood.
               The light hatches.
I lived, I live, I will live
with you.

                         Her forehead blisters
under his glare. He wants her
white:
               bone with no shadow.

June 1989, Forth Street, Christchurch

 


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