yesterday (in her scrapbook) i
saw my mother's
heart
and it was blue.
i
had thought / i was a bird,
but
that was pre-school (and)
before you.
i hear the bird song
in
my head (i hear you)
singing
technologically / speaking / and
i
flip
the yellow pages
with
disdain for myself
and
my wild hopes.
they
fly
higher than me...
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