#19
      The "Do You Have Lots of Faults Too?" Issue

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HEATHER LANG

Wait

I don't want
to forget
you (although I
will) — I trace
the lines
of the cityscape —
you hold
my hand, fingers
spread, like
a bouquet.

Common Prayer

tonight the meniscus
of my water glass

reminds me of the moon
just this once

I give
you my muted promise

the mourning dove lands
on the sill like

a finger on a

trigger

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