What slips from me is whatslips from me. Slippageis the hinge on which my lifehinges. When the textemerges with a mark missing,I kiss it. The error ablatesthe face I was makingwhen making it. Eros, a mistake.When I faced it, I lost it.When it slipped from me,it slipped from me, and I let itslip from me: errant tear.
Beauty is made my fear
Jane Huffman
A few notes on a misprinted poem by Laura Jensen
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Copyright © 2026 by Jane Huffman.
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Reproduced by Poetry Daily with permission.
Volume 20, issue 2
Minneapolis/St. Paul, Minnesota
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Ralph Pennel
Poetry Editor
Samantha R. Sharp
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