and then it goes quiet again and I hear voices through the walls. at nine I close my eyes underground and see trees of rust on dusty ground. you’ve gone off to see the world and what should I do. strings of skin keep coming off like death’s approaching. they say sunlight is like knives in your eyes on the other side.

but I see glass on fire against a clear cut sky. a million fragments swarm around my head. I have stars in my hair and shimmering eyes. I have become the woman they want me to be, a clean lie of sorts and limbs scattered all around. she smiles sweetly in dreams, but bites off your head with an angular jaw. will it ever rain again. the nights ahead are hot like hell. dense liquid fill the streets and hands are randomly clasped in prayer position along its way, down. with my head to the ground and eyes at the sky, I slice it open. the bulging horizon.


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