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the blue

Shira Dentz

                  plunge into trees’ green leaves despite the air and air

                  my mind is warbles in my eye — — the still scape out
                  my window
                                    so leaves shake that be part of my day

you go to water, it doesn’t come to you,
swimming in a reservoir surrounded by mountains like steer in a desert,
a blue triangle of water swims in me. remember my nightmare, my father’s face
as if it were burned, barely had a face anymore, his mouth rudimentary.
mostly flesh with an opening. what does this

mean? do i need to take the garbage now? jaws
are closing and a fly moves
up the window. my mind is warbled warbled warbled warbles in my triangle.

trellis of sun, wind, & leaves — —
a black and white film plays on a woman’s skin as she stretches below
on her towel.

Shira Dentz

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