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74 MISHAP ends with pursed lips and a puff of air but starts with a closed mouth and vibrating throat a humming of our first note of ourselves— our objective case: feed me, love me, watch me then the subjective: a narrow column of impulse and irreverence startled perhaps by the hissing in the middle of the word’s path. See the curved aching toward the whisper of—him? her? In most other words, the two— placed next to each other— fuse, shushing our objections. But this word is cleaved neatly in half. The second half is happiness abbreviated: not the beginning of pleasure and then a wrong turn but rather a wrong turn into a sudden sweet happiness that catches in your throat ...

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