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      June 7, 2014SplittingRichard Krohn

      After the china
      I guess we next split
      silver, he said,
      I claim the neutrons
      —she didn’t laugh—
      or any other tarnished
      subatomics, and me no
      polish, but you,
      you atom-splitter,
      you must be Eve.

      She stared and said
      the silver was her parents’.

      Amen, I understand,
      he said, you keep your
      spoons to cradle
      what you love,
      and forks to hold
      the things you want,
      and matching batch
      of knives to spread
      a smooth sweet
      surface, or slice
      things right
      in half.

      from #20 - Winter 2003