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-You wake and say the sound is cardinal song A kind of orienting temperance Toilet paper spiral-iced in trees until trunks turn white Old gods seen through perfecting distances Song an ancient priestess heard while setting blade To the throat of an orange boar (signal of spring) To stay a hand Today, I promise, speak of the mail it will still come All long-awaited correspondences Will come like soldiers’ boats on a cancelled shore Cardinal Song for Molly Marie ...

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