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While lovers sleep, I dig my nails into the earth,
holding up traffic. Just now a cloud has pulled up
while I was talking to the Emptiness
of the Universe and my voice plugged into the waves
at the bottom of the ocean.
My heart is taped up like a child’s drawing
of the moon over the broken window of the sky
where the wind always comes back to fill my lungs.
I will dance on my shadow. I will open my mouth
with the air inside my mother’s coffin.
I will be the arrow breaking apart in the body
of the blackbird, which appears at my window, singing.