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21 K ate G ale Instead of Kissing We rake leaves and burn them. scrape fungi from old logs, the size of a hand, write on them, my name, your name. We name the tree, the “Shininin Tree.” Skin scrapes off our legs as we climb, dive into brackish cold pools, come up in beavers’ houses. Night settles around us sitting on rocks, slipping in quietly as trout, one last time, looking up through stream water, through night air, we see the moon shining down to touch creatures in shadows. We hold hands under water, rise to the surface, part, climb out alone, hurry into clothes and through woods in separate silence. ...

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