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We walked through night until there was a poem.Brenda Hillman
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While I slept you stood in thecolorful night marketwith pyramids of brightfruit piled high Where those who loved you, rushing back to their intimate stalls, held out pears that had beendreamed for you And would the dream pear notcome gladlyonce it knew this was youwanting to take it in? The dream pear chose reality, wanting your mouth as I did -Honestly, it was happy to be bitten.Brenda Hillman