"...& take everyone through the wound of it." ~ Chen Chen My body is the sudden drop into darkness at the end of daylight saving time; is the summer of power-washing mold from the walls, and the unsettling pain of posterior deltoids; is the night it heard the green mourning cries of crickets in the field, and a chorus of frogs answering; is the city that comes into view as a bus rounds a curve, but only as a faded outline of lights. My heart is the terror that entered one side; and how it left, bereft, on the other. My love is only as round as a new potato pulled up from soil, only as glamorous as a seahorse's skull—I know nothing about how they came to be what they are, only the mystery of their presence in the world.
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