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Contraindications


My hands’ lines have grown undefined: grasses in their wires, fancy fishing knots, bones of a stray. The hard to handle can be sweet to see?
     I whisper the harder notes. The snow was dirty until it fell.
     School buses learning their routes, late August. Tiger lilies animate in a ditch. If you fail as a waiter, the restaurant may hire you as a singer.

*

My sister colors the air between birds: the color of flight. This month she distinguishes between beaks and feathers, not by switching crayons, but by rubbing hard through the paper to make the beaks opening.
     I parked far to walk.
     The skin peels back with ripening. Now point to where exactly in the brain you believe this so-called light begins.

*

The most again, or once more again, and more than ever. And what now won’t come to seem like innocence, and extradition. Pleasure educates.
     A single strand of onion in the dough gave savor.
     Longevity in the violin student’s bow, fixed in its case. She thumbed a string.
     Painted the boarded windows white, so snow.

*

I have been practicing a knot so complex the rope goes completely straight at times.