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The Columbia Review Fall 2022

Page 28

fall 2022

Devoured Sebastian Merrill

How have I made division of myself? An apple cleft in two, I lie where I fall. Sometimes I pronounce my grief aloud, howl toward the earth, an animal sound. Half-dead, I hollow in the dirt. I twin myself in shadow, I rinse my image in the river’s shallows. I drown my remembrance with salt water. I was yet of many accounted beautiful.

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