By Kathleen MacGregor
It’s later, now.
After the peaches
and the pie crust and
after Dad said
he has lymph cancer.
It’s after spending 3 hours today blanching,
peeling, slicing and spicing
peaches I bought on Tuesday
and placed in the brown paper bag,
on the Mexican tile floor.
Beneath the side board
they rested into themselves
for four days.
Until their scent
dripped thickly from the air
and sweetened us with...
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watch?v=OwOSDxWrwCY&feature=channel_page
So
We’ve come to the place
Where we are sep arate
We meet in cities and
On lin e
Dropping the e
At the end
And other parts to o
We regard and dis
Regard one
Another
In the wanting for ourselves to be
Connectedcompletewhole
If only to live in the
Wanting
Not as not having
But as having all
And he dreams of me often
Tasting him
In many ways.
And whose dream is...
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