If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?




SC




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Here is the desk drawer in which all of my odds and ends are kept, tidbits that would otherwise never see the light of day.











Thursday, March 3, 2011

Still On R

Bloom now, my physician of sick pearls and I will swallow your confessions, hidden under my winter tongue.
Bloom now, barefoot, and we can brace for the imbroglios, reciprocal nostrums in our first spring’s sun.

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