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Ars Poetica: Aniospermae or Magnoliophyta

On the first day, they couldn't pronounce my name, pRose

Their eyes drifted from the chalkboard

and gazed through the windows

(or, a square cut in the wall)

to topiary and tumbleweeds

As their bright eyes stared for introduction

I told them to call me magnolia.

But I was there

and they were there

and we were there

I understood

and they understood

and we understood

Bai Chen squinted, perplexed with his translator.



He entered our world. 

soft calls

it's not//i barely

hear you say my name -- it's just

the fact you say it.

loss of all the possibilities

your shy eyes glittered

with hope from my far away smile

yeah. i missed the glance. 

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