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A nose with two eyes high in it
as if they’ve fled together from
what is on the other side of the face
what the face is facing.
And the nose so big and high and forlorn.
How tender it is. Not a bone
but a veil over sharpness
which a second after is melting.
Could we arrange our faces this way
how clear it would be. Misery, misery
and from it, as it dissolves and weeps,