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Speaking for Themselves
to make component parts of place and consciousness
meaningless and, as breathing slows down,
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to do what water does, announce a source in cadence,
repetition, sound, allow a gradual dissolving of
boundaries between the actual and evident and still,
when all that is done, I know there never was
a single place for me. I never lost enough to have one.
I want to live where they refused to speak --
those first emigrants who never said
where they came from, what they left behind.
Their country was a finger to the lips, a child's question stopped.
And yet behind their eyes in eerie silence, was an island,



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