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by Kay Weeks

You locked the oars,
looked at me, dismayed,
and expression for expression,
I returned the same.

We nodded 'Yes'
to one soft current
that asked to carry us
into the morning silence;

I disavowed
all word-bound paths
as powerless.

Becalmed, I took a gentle breeze
as wind, embraced you,
and disregarded the chill.


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