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She said, i set my love out over an ocean of space
in a ship made of recycled parts, and
if i do and if i don’t miss his dear body
then is that a healthy love?
when you feel a face so close
that it starts to be one feature
in your hands that touch any body—
how do you know if it fits like a glove?
then, She said, you measure your pace,
keep time with quiet hands, not singing hearts.
You will know when: when no body
can shove you off balance—
then you’ve found the place,
thin as a blade with an edge that smarts,
where everybody can feel your face
like a crucial lever, like a restless dove.