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Anna Elena Eyre

           a family
there curled in bed
                    everyone grown /

                              on top of
covers limb
odds private
                       parts / undercover

you there
               in your act of hair
can    participate in parade
not as well
               as wig with legs but
           costume to ride a
                              float /

you drop your purse
blurt out an InDecipherable phrase
                                              InDependent and jump into celebratory onslaught / legs run
                              the faster they
                         do the slower you are
walking up a downward
                escalator / you
                have a premonition of an old friend
know to expect companion
                                        the first appears similar but is not yours
the second is dead
                     in your arms releases purse from clamped jaw
your kisses meet
                          cool lapse of tongue /

someone left the window open
                                        the hummingbirds
don’t know to go back where they came from
                                                 you let them out the front door
go back to close their entrance and it
                                                      is hinge less / sealed

paneplates you from figureeightaerial maneuvers. yourmom says ifbirdsonly
knewto fly down theycouldescape atrium. your bestfriend istheone who doesnot
speak yourwords butlicksyour tongue—noseknows what to sniff for—willhelp
youwhenyou cannot run backwards. back familial wardbed—wordbetter left open
toobservation to preventprivateconfusion. you remember a mentoredbeast is best
leftfordark. the beast bestnot seeown body or recognizeown scent shedof fur. relies
on companion for touch tomeasureself. bestnot wick beast knot into X-insist
existence. flame. your wax drips scarnaked vulnerable human organ unlit toeyeless
night. the best disguises are familiarphysicaltraits—exaggerated. the hair brings you
back to her—theonewho loves you regardless ofherhairlessness or tongue’s leadheruse
and let her participate in leather fleshlyfestivals of no particularparticle.

Anna Elena Eyre

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