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Mark Truscott

Among

notes of various
orders, each body
betrays its own
song. Take mine
for example:
its mind is alive
to your curiosity
yet it satisfies
itself with shadows
pinned to the floor.
Rain falls. Its sound
leaks simultaneously
from every corner
of every shape
you’d care to draw.
Meanwhile, real
music plays softly
on the radio.
Yes, on the radio
real music
softly plays.

author bio
issue eleven

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