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Stilling
- Wesleyan University Press
- Chapter
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STILLING The last snow isbaited. Where the future shatters it unbends. The dry bed of entirety, where the sunbends, shatters. I was not afraid to tell you: unobscene at the first and then the third horizon, a copse-mountain opened so near to me I weighed nothing, and you laid the flower in my mouth. These are not animals. These are the partial genocides deeply uncompensated. Under the grass there is nothing but water and two wings. 24 ...