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spirals of clarinet
blowing away lace
face masks. I see slanted
eyes and built up
noses, hiding the way
we look at each other
and men come, hidden
by their hats, they ask us to leave and
my husband and I
tell them that we will
finish our dinner and
do a dance on the
stage. They sit and
wait and then we stop
and break our backs
waiting for the state of love
to shift the future and
bend the smoke into
crispen past.
A man without a hat
waits for nothing and
welcomes us after the show
he gives us a drink and it
tastes nice, so we follow him,
his skin is dark. He tells us
our son is reborn and we say that
we are only just
married and he tells
us that love has no bounds and
the men with hats come and
take us away from him and
our drinks, until there is no
love left dance with.

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