Max Sessner (translated from the German by Francesca Bell)
in her dreams it often appeared but always as if it belonged to someone else a cold comfort we thought
Ana Pugatch
I cup the frozen body of evening, trace the lines that creep along the beetle's velvet shell.
Afaa M. Weaver
We count our wishes, to be free, to be at ease, to be in abundance. Above us spirits whirl in a thunderhead

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