I begin to unpin guilt like it's hair
hold my own hand as it trembles
a stare still lies a bit out of reach
grows into a new part of my body
hold my own hand as it trembles
a stare still lies a bit out of reach
grows into a new part of my body
my body goes old young indifferent
time folding across like a clock-face
and hands clap for what comes next
texting alien syllables from my name
analog clock, digital face, so partial
to opening my heart all the way like
I once said I would in a secret place
we know where it stays dark all night
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