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Signature
By Hannah Kahn

If I sing
because I must
being made
of singing dust,
and I grow
like twisted tree
having neither
symmetry
nor the structure
to avert
the falling axe,
the minor hurt;
yet of one thing
I am sure
that this
bears my signature:
that I knew love
when it came
and I called it
by its name.

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Mary-Jeanette Taylor