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by Martina Reisz Newberry

We carve myths
the way our
carved totems:
with legacies behind us
and a sense
of offering something better
than we are
We build our anecdotes
with shards of faith,
dye them with liquor
and spit
and the warm juices
only lovers know.
We place them
in the tunnels
of our dreams
And, when they are complete,
we lay down at
their feet,
close our eyes,
whisper "I believe."

(from "Learning By Rote" Deerbrook Editions 2012)


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