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Poetry

2 Poems

We know your floors, solid but bowing like centennial splinters, and your resonant moans from the weight of lovers, like caked twigs

2 poems

In a stretch of amber water some call the swamps of Florida, a man longs for the home he has always lived in, a long-muscled wave tossing between shores, the quarter mile of liquid he knows as if he were the watchman of its vein.