If mimesis is a cavity
Then we are branded past desire

I longed to know the fingering
Of C above high C

Her stethoscope became indigenous
To a region where tea grew fluently

A capstone lives apart from
Sculpting as an act of still nativity
Sur render

Sous-chef in the throes of dis-
Economy made me
So very, very hapless

Spaghetti straps doubled
As banjo strings that night

Not a strong gust left
Justified, mere pianissimo in fact


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