'Coming to this' by Mark Strand (1934–2014)
Conversation
Replying to
And there is the sleep that demands I lie down /
and be fitted to the dark that comes upon me /
like another skin in which I shall never be found, /
out of which I shall never appear.
—Mark Strand
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Replying to
reminds me of reading about ‘Gastronomic Poetry’ in this:
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