The Night is a Slit

throat. everyone is dangling:
I want to repack

 

all my letters in bigger letters
so that you have to undo them

 

twice. The morning is a lung
expanding. Everyone is limping.

 

Let me shrug you a new evening.

 

If I were a cantaloupe I'd cut myself

into your morning. If I were a forest

 

I'd pull back your shadows and store them

in my carriage. If I were a linen-cage

 

I'd hold you until my body became an ear
and yours a flailing tongue.

                                                        Kallie Falandays

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