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You wrap my fingers in the leaves, wintergreen,  twisting psalms between loose teeth    Bound, I swear to something sharp  as my father’s nose, your mother’s mouth    You harvest my handship before the bruising of the midrib,   as the kingfisher breaks his bill on a bone-eared stone    Minnows scarper upstream, no longer monarchs  Beneath our casuarina tree, you are    deadheading asphodels We watch white tongues curdle by our feet