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DAVID ST. JOHN An Essay on Liberation He stood naked at one of the two windows She kept open in all weathers in her Corner room at the back of the old building As the sun rose he watched a man Dragging a handcart along the narrow alley below & across the court a young boy was turning His face from side to side in a freckled mirror From the temples in the old section of the city He could hear the first sequence Of morning prayers & to the west he could see The dulled bronze domes of The Church of the Orthodox Where at any moment the bells would begin to chime & in the streets crisscrossing the city From the old section to the sea The tanks & personnel trucks began moving quietly Into position in their orderly & routine way & the bells began sounding from their tower They were answered by the echoing concussion of mortars As the daily shelling of the hills began & she was slicing small pieces of bread the size of coins To fry in goat butter & chives she was naked Kneeling on one of the worn rugs thrown at angles across The scarred floor she glanced up at him & smiled Nodding for no reason in particular & in spite of The fact the one phrase he’d taught her perfectly Began with the world for free though it ended With nothing 24 ✦ DAVID ST. JOHN ...

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