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Betsy Sholl

  • portlandbove
  • Jul 3
  • 1 min read


Fragment


I was always asking something, asking over and over,

never listening to the answer, as if the question was mine,

the answer more like someone else’s wow

over a shooting star I didn’t see.


And isn’t the point to see? —

to be dropped to our knees by a light-struck violin,  

its pitch intent on breaking the heart, and us

crying out, Yes, all right, break it.




Betsy Sholl

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