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I look up, you are standing
on the other side of the window

now your body
glimmers in the dark

room / you rise above me
smooth, chill, stone-

white / you smell of tunnels
you smell of too much time

I should have used leaves
and silver to prevent you

instead I summoned

you are not a bird you do not fly
you are not an animal you do not run

you are not a woman

your mouth is nothingness
where it touches me I vanish

you descend on me like age
you descend on me like earth

– Margaret Atwood