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  • Jessica Lieberman

Four Poems

A Deep Blue

buzzing follows her

like a man

shouting Revelation

at the asphalt.

Her mouth is a flower

turned inward—

how terrible to be

alive. The body


everything. She thinks

of Celan.

His heart, a luminous


Poppies Standing

in for death. My

father tells me I see only

one dark thing.

I see snuff

like wallpaper.

My words are dark.

I see a worm, eater

of death. Thread


my throat. How

did I learn to sew

like that? I read

a poppy.

I believe

in red and black.


I was pleased

when my body fell

out of my body.

Easy as a friend. No

small hiding

of relentless formation—

I want

this absence.

I got away with myself


Night Lifted Her

brick skirt

for me—

the beginning

of that dance of sacrifices,



wintered on around her

like a shushing.

The way ruins,


take the mouth around them


Jessica Lieberman's work has appeared or is forthcoming in Kenyon Review Online, Bennington Review, The Laurel Review, Horsethief, Salamander and other journals.

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