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we lenten is come with love — we worms woweth — we women waxeth

we think the archive might be tidal

our second miracle is to fuck successfully when the house is awake

our second miracle is to fuck successfully when the house is quiet

I am hemmed another inch each time she says I’m a saint

I am — or I was — a wicked girl according to my eighth grade nun

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we said so — that’s why

I taught three classes

I did the dishes

I walked to & from the train

I am doing the laundry

I am research assistant on this sixth grade earthquake project

I am quizzing some fourth grade vocabulary

I am ‘choosing optimism against the evidence’ years old

I am in an ordinary evening

I am not writing

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our flesh is tested in crabbed lent

we buy chincoteague salties for five dollars a dozen on the roadside

we can tell a raven from a crow

I am having my penultimate period

I find these sharply articulated consonants most attractive

I am older than ‘back on my bullshit’ years old — nevertheless

I am back on my bullshit

I fail yet another daily writing practice

we’re in the yellow I’ve dreamt about — shaped by tracery &

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I am so pure & lonely — please come home

I’m not into a lifestyle of denial — he said

we are an uncountable noun

we nest & we agree & we neb

I went in a building only to look at how the light entered it

we the air softer— the blue brighter— the wind shifter

we note the crocuses burst up while we were at work

our second miracle is the lay or lie of the land

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we know that saints do not require privacy

we nestle & we argue & we neither of us give it our best

I am ‘watching masterpiece mystery online illegally’ years old

I read lent is where she lives & thought — yes

our books — our eyes — need better light

I am taking the pot from the fire — its mark left in the ashes

I am ‘leave your socks on — it’s cold’ years old

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we cover the maps with traffic

our children shout in suburban late winter twilight

I am ‘finding the masterpiece mystery inspector attractive’ years old


I am forty-seven years old & have three children & I look it

I am not invested in that statement as proclamation, nullification, or manifesto

we become saints when we are too old for what if

our second miracle is to fuck successfully when we can overhear fox news from across the hall