Flat as the sign of fleeing immigrants
her eyes storm fever yellow
–warning diamonds that
tried to get pregnant in the shower
the whole time–
but the sperm preferred blow up dolls,
and the Ivory soap bubbles were infinitely better looking…
bypassing her Plain-Jane egg
for a daughter who smelled of milk,
who did Calculus in her head,
who pushed pins through
butterflied wounds,
and enjoyed shocking news.
Hoarded like water,
recounted to gratify–
–the newest question:
“Do you know who died today?”
(on a scale of one to ten)
“Because I do…
I know who died today…”
not hearing him
> grab <
for air
extending
electron orbit
into space.
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