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  The Day's Peak
by Gabriela Anaya Valdepeņa
 
With your entourage of dust devils,
you arrive at the day's peak.

The damaged day.
Damascus is lost. Mexico City--

maudlin clouds, dirty pillows,
oxygen tanks, cigarettes.

Women wrapped in flames.
I climb a pyramid.

At this height, nothing can hurt,
not even the fall.

You with your accent from
sleeping worlds. One shot.
I use all my words in one sentence.

You reject me for simplicity; brevity,
I can't say enough about this.

The last step. I
spread my arms like a charmed bird.
You are the first god, the third man,
the last animal.

What significance
does one number have over another--

a face,
a word?

 

 


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