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SaDdpipersT Jennifer Hancock for DBG she loves the word liminal loves flirting with the fluid edges of the way we know things knows how to kiss a woman knows the imaginary line where a man's neck segues into his shoulder she's pale and blonde and grew up in Vietnam thailand crossing porous borders as the vietcong closed in and fell back (cobra eggs hatching in her childhood garden under her father's military boots) and i'm telling her this thing about sandpipers over hot lime-infused soup at the only thai restaurant in Stillwater: how they chase the edge of the gulf as it advances and retreats but it's not really an edge i say more of a dissolving of white foam into dark sand into an impression of land but i think i'm trying to say 64 Jennifer Hancock i'm sad we're landlocked that i wish the definition between prairie and sky was less acute and i pick a stalk of lemongrass from my soup set it on the cheap china rim avoid looking at the strip mall parking lot Oklahoma heat shimmering the black-top red dust rising in a mirage blurring the early wheat across the road and she nods as if she has some knowledge of sandpipers on distant texas shores their twig legs brittle running along an edge as if they somehow want it to chase them back and she knows that's what i mean but not quite what i mean and that the question of how we love is always one of retreat and advance and an earth that turns to water under our feet 65 ...


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