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The sound wasn’t coming from her dream, it was coming from inside the house. Somewhere outside her bedroom the noise was gaining power. Each pitch climbed higher with the urgency of a smoke alarm. With hands over ears and a hazy brain she got up from her
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The single halter that I have -- a candle, or
a torch, though fulgent -- is no solvent to absence.
I eat in silence; I take, finally, like some communion wafer,
a thought on my tongue, and swallow the cusp of evening.
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