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| Madonna With the Milk Soup, 1510, Gerard David |
The orchestration that captures me
is composed on album covers,
scribbled at night in the margins of cookbooks,
moonless on junk mail.
Steamy bowls wait in the windowsill
until morning, when they have cooled
enough to be spooned and sipped,
the tang that comes with my heightening.
The ladle is filled to overflowing;
take care with rustling, everything might spill.
You have something of mine, maestro―
the close rhythm of this sigh.
