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The first refuses to sing so sings

In a hutch I spooned rabbit stew,
wrote a letter on the tame one’s ear,

the wild one I left for the fox,
the mute appetite of snow.

I sketched meadows stacked
like sedimentary rock.  Regions

of the brain, horses bitten to run
intractably back to fire.

I knew by scent your body’s sly marauding.
Peeled fruit wetting the palm,

mineral taste on the tongue.
I was young, impetuous.

I touched it twice and twice
it bit to keep me nestled close.

Posted 03/07/13
Published in the Colorado Review, Spring 2013
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