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In the Clear Long After

In the Clear Long After

Spring is cheap, but clean of sky. Long after she used to,
meet him on the sly. He didn’t say much, because to
speak you need a voice, need lead. Among the dead there were
such fresh ghosts, they were still breathing. Through their
mouths. Time, time, to adjust to an other. An ether
O so—No—too sweet. Intoxicated with permeability. ‘Tis noxious, to eat evanescence. However steadily, however slowly.
They stemmed into heady blows.
They missed
the stain. Of blue berries and argument. They missed
their lips. The yew and the thorns. They missed.
Their flaws.

O, to be stung by an errant bee. O, to sting.
O, to see you again. Covered in spring.

Olena Kalytiak Davis
first published in Verse, vol. 16, no. 3; vol. 17, no. 1

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