The Wind blew out my voice/ At first she couldn’t hear me
In the past I sucked it in, heard her whisperask, well, does it smell broken
An orchard of bird prints in sand, erased/That place I laid mermaid,
hip-down-casted in grains/ Shared apple, bread with feathered wilds
Wet, cold, naked
(Inching closer, she saw/she sees)
The spill/ My constant foxtrot down shore—a way
In place of people, I dance with scarves I said, the stars will come soon, call for us/ They call us the wishers: we, their dusted selves
In the past I sucked it in, heard her whisperask, well, does it smell broken
An orchard of bird prints in sand, erased/That place I laid mermaid,
hip-down-casted in grains/ Shared apple, bread with feathered wilds
Wet, cold, naked
(Inching closer, she saw/she sees)
The spill/ My constant foxtrot down shore—a way
In place of people, I dance with scarves I said, the stars will come soon, call for us/ They call us the wishers: we, their dusted selves
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