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Louise Nayer
MotherAnd how I longed
My blue fish
spawned a baby
in my dreams.
It was beautiful,
luminescent
among the quartz.
for perfection,
its gills
to be the opening
song of night.
One dead fish later
and your hands
aging, scarred,
on a white formica table
we all admit failure,
the accidents
we could not stop.
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