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Lost Wax
C.K. Williams
Size: 8.5in. w x 11in. h
Edition: 25
Hand Printed By: Copper Canyon Press / 2012
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Lost Wax
C.K. Williams

My love gives me some wax 

so for once instead of words 

I work at something real; 

I knead until I see emerge 

a person, a protagonist; 

but I must overwork my wax,

it loses its resiliency, 

comes apart in crumbs.


I take another block: 

this work,  I think, will be a self;

I can feel it forming, brow

and brain; perhaps it will be me, 

perhaps, if I can create myself,

I'l be able to mend myself;

my wax, though, freezes 

this time, fissures, splits.


Words or wax, no end 

to our self-shaping, our forlorn

awareness at the end of which 

is only more awareness.

Was ever truth so malleable? 

Arid, inadhesive bits of matter.

What might heal you? Love.

What make you whole? Love. My love. 

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