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She steps out suddenly, wrapped in the wind,
in plain sight, as if in relief,
while now the living room, like a cut-out
behind her, fills the doorway


darkly, like the ground of a cameo
shimmering around the edges;
and you realize it wasn’t evening
before she stepped out


to lay her hands on the railing—
almost weightless, as if
to reach from the terrace to the sky,
and drift away from all things.