my mouth, the down-lit cast of my glance
where I studied that quality, sun-
runner, gold bodied, how could I
answer you with all this earth
piled on my tongue, your limbs
just stripped of anger, how could I say,
yes, there is something on my mind
rushing up as river in a locked car;
voice ruined, how could I explain the meteor
in my chest cavity, could I cluster verbs
into sardine cans and twist the lid
back on and tamp it shut with the
gold hammer of my must-not-say-
that, which huddled, parched,
as we said goodnight, see you
in the morning, don’t stay up too late.”
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