Christina Hutchins

We lay abed fitted & refitted

& the remainder of the day could not stop washing

its hands    its face    its long & glossy back

in the passing strands of us    Savored

silk    we were mercurial

the sunlit mane of a river in flood

For years you leaned forward with the dusk

& then again away      O house of solitude

damp night air

flax wrapped loose round my dark comb




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