all I crave is light & yet
winter
sky is busy imitating milk
frozen in an upturned bowl to be a person is a sounding
through,
host of breath
rehoused & rib scribbled inside you there above
the page
casting your gaze over us
wanting us to be your mouth & what would you say
with my body
bowed to bear the weight
of a line so taut it sings | 
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