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a poem by Harry Calhoun

My arm around you, tonight

for Trina

Your breath rises and falls in bed
under me like the swell and fade
of the puffer-fish, and I wake thinking

of both of our needs
rising and falling tonight
and night and day how hard

it is to adjust to the swelling
and shrinking of those needs
like high and low tides, pregnancy

and birth, recovery and death
and just normalcy and I need
the plain semicircular orbit

of my arm around you



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