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Field Guide to Silence

Marcela Sulak

He was dusting her silence for fingerprints.
She was taking him out of context.

If words carry with them the traces they have been
so be it.

He was traipsing around in his Armani verbs,
his Cuban-heeled demeanor.

She was always confusing
personification with personality.

Sometimes she thinks Witold Gombrowic
was right about Bruno Schulz.

Too nearing each other they turned around
dumb with yearning.

If he likes metaphors so much
let him make a home in them and be comfortable.

In Peru there are symbols for every thing.
There is a theatre of clouds, there are actors on the mountains.

She bit the hand that feeds her
to see how it would taste.

Marcela Sulak

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