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by Diane DeCillis


to withdraw one's feelings of attachment from a person, idea, or object, as in anticipation of a future loss


I wear shades to block your light

but still recall the hanging moon,


how it bathed your face

in whisky dark. I block my nose


among the roses but their thorns

still perfume the air in every room


that held your breath. I press

a cold spoon to my mouth to freeze


the lip of my resolve, swing a hammer

at the panes to change the view.


I use the crayon you once used

to color doors of my heart shut,


fade the songs of meadowlarks

to barely hued. The way your touch


traveled through me like a blessing

for the damned, I watch the sea


extend to shore its watery hand.