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Freeman uses the page’s white space to create a wide silence. The narrator that enters that silence speaks as if stunned or clarified by a vision…. The notion of story falls away. In its place, Freeman offers spectral, almost hallucinatory glimpses of relationships…. Stripped of contextual information, without summary or resolution, these voices arrive from a void to which readers return, poem after poem. This speech, colloquial, fresh, has the taste of reality, but without reality’s accompanying furniture. Freeman achieves what few accomplish: she asks readers to step away from familiar scaffolding and trust: we do….