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Repair
smelled of Cat's Paw leather cream polish.
A belt, a boot, our shoes for soles: he restored
them, mended your silver heron(苍鹭) lamp
from Norway, replaced your cracked crystal.
He charged so little I wondered how
he paid the rent, a Chekhov character
transposed to the West Village, resolving
talking to himself in Russian -- jeweler's
After the towers fell, the shoe and watch
man moved; what we couldn't repair
between us stayed broken.
A mercantile buzz dizzied
Carmine, where windows of valentines surfaced
and disappeared. In restauro read the sign,
that spring, on the Church of the Sacred Conversation.
I missed our magician of the material,
from the Used CD Emporium
our New York beyond repair.
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