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Night dixains

Night dixains Marie Étienne Dalat You won’t go into the forest because It’s closed it’s much too large it’s much too damp Black nibbles at the edges dampness digs Its holes one doesn’t enter there Clémence Wants to get close to the trees burst open Under the weight of flying monkeys who Are afraid of heights inhabited by Blackflies that hover on tepid waters Brightness approaches as the leaves recede A glow reflected from the uniform Depth and thickness of the leaves I don’t want The mirror’s in the bedroom and in front Of it we find her brushing her horselike Hair and she whinnies because her mother Is a woman and her father absent God is it you who’ll be my punishment? And if a child is going to bring night To the mirror in the bedroom where she Looks at herself those who know circumvent Those who don’t who will die of exhaustion Slowly advancing under the vast trees The green is black Clémence I do not want To enter the forest on the mountain The mirror in the bedroom too wide too 165 Wet my mother’s a woman my father Is alone beloved the punishment God I do http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Prairie Schooner University of Nebraska Press

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Publisher
University of Nebraska Press
Copyright
Copyright © University of Nebraska Press.
ISSN
1542-426X

Abstract

Marie Étienne Dalat You won’t go into the forest because It’s closed it’s much too large it’s much too damp Black nibbles at the edges dampness digs Its holes one doesn’t enter there Clémence Wants to get close to the trees burst open Under the weight of flying monkeys who Are afraid of heights inhabited by Blackflies that hover on tepid waters Brightness approaches as the leaves recede A glow reflected from the uniform Depth and thickness of the leaves I don’t want The mirror’s in the bedroom and in front Of it we find her brushing her horselike Hair and she whinnies because her mother Is a woman and her father absent God is it you who’ll be my punishment? And if a child is going to bring night To the mirror in the bedroom where she Looks at herself those who know circumvent Those who don’t who will die of exhaustion Slowly advancing under the vast trees The green is black Clémence I do not want To enter the forest on the mountain The mirror in the bedroom too wide too 165 Wet my mother’s a woman my father Is alone beloved the punishment God I do

Journal

Prairie SchoonerUniversity of Nebraska Press

Published: Dec 21, 2019

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