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I recognise this self. in drawings of koi fish and
menthol slicked lips. in weeks spent searching for all the fishbones in a
warm hands heat up rice between thumbs. I could say the names of all the
dishes better in my reflection. she moves with me to the dinner table
and back I fear our batteries will slow and we’ll tick out of
time. I am not a fictional character / my alphabet is whole. ‘where have you been?’ I have
been running on a vague mispronunciation of myself ever since you left. reset.
I feel like I am being beckoned by false
names / rename me to what I have always been / make my name sit (comfortably) in your
mouth. ( I care too much about what sits within brackets)
I was given this self.
‘if God is willing, we will meet again.’
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