Dana Goodyear reads


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We found (like the deserting) spacious calm,
drank a pair of Arnold Palmers underneath a palm.
Went for massage and mud, lacquer, love,
overheated minerals, a stimulating rub.
Then—as if it could be used, as if for art—
I placed a grain of doubt in your open-pored heart,
and watched what had been small dilate
and everything else evaporate.