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Published: Thu Jul 1 2004
Eva Lundsager, Were now like (detail), 2021, oil on canvas
The Pear

It is the new dream, how the light
folds around her feet, the fruit gathered
from the garden, the other hard stones.
She presses the knife against her thumb,
the strips like thin paper, pale green,
spiraling softly around the flesh, the white,
exact shape. For a moment this skin
could be any set of stairs, and sweet scent
or blade, nothing now can stop it.

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