Fig. 11: Two story brick building with double set of windows, reflecting halved trees and sky, disjointed. A girl inside would be invisible.

Fig. 13: A posed question. How would it look to the neighbors, with you up here til all hours of the night? Listed below in pencil are all the hours of the night, roughly erased, paper rucked up, torn in places.

Sarah Ann Winn lives in Fairfax Virginia. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Apeiron Review, [d]ecember, Flycatcher, Lost River Review, Lunch Ticket, Massachusetts Review, and Rappahannock Review, among others. Currently, she teaches poetry in public schools through a Sally Merton Fellowship. Visit her at or follow her @blueaisling on Twitter.

Appendix L
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