b l o w i n g - g l a s s

 
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blown by mouth

I'm dancing with
a piece of steel,
you're measuring
necks with calipers.
I'm ready when
you need me,
presenting my labors
for your approval.
Snap of diamond shears
and you send me
on my way, back
to feed from the
maw of the roaring
furnace. We work
in silence, a
conversation in gestures
grown from familiarity.
The beauty
we wring from
our hands is fragile
and skillful.




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