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Poetry | May 2007

Chaos Theory

By J. B. Rowell

I.
I knew you in a stir
of cosmos
churn of life
brewing soul in a grain
of rice

II.
it doesn’t happen
just like that
your father said
I smiled
hand on the ceiling
of your sky

III.
I dreamt you before
born: dark hair
played with you
on the floor until told
to put you back
startled awake
by the thought

IV.
you took a pacifier
like a piece of love
couldn’t wait
to get out of my arms
off of my lap
and go

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