Fotopoet Listens for Her Muse

Where will I uncover you

murmuring in star-grass

loosestrife, fireweed

indistinguishable from rock, crocus

and the smoothness of elsewhere

like cheekbone — when I find you

in the black-roofed boundaries of air

let this be our proof: describe for me

a spiral staircase, don’t use your hands.

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