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Poetry

Incarnation

Michael Bartholomew-Biggs

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You burst into our conversation
like the sudden stranger
striding through a bar room.
You split our boasting, wooing, whining
with a silence measured
by the rolling tick-tock
of a toppled empty glass;
the drop of dominoes
dribbling off a table;
the ripple of a pack of cards
self-shuffling while escaping
from a dealer's grip.

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