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Poems by Sean McKenzie


The melting of a sofa,
the loss of form
and harm

I fall into your face each time I see you,
I hold your lower lip,
I claim you love me and only me
and speak in suddenly awkward ways,
dance in the confusion of losing you,
in front of you,
place stars and flowers in your hair,
tie ribbons into braids,
pour water at your feet,

and carve who we are into the physical
beyond history or sculpture
beyond ourselves


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Biographical sketch: Vancouver, Canada

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