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Stored time
by Rochelle Mass

Sometimes I want to feel
thin and flat
I want to be transparent
hide in a corner of a cave
dark with the stench
of stored time

till my daughters grow up
till their father becomes
the man I'm looking for.

I'll tell my daughters
and their father
about the cave
how sunshine
is a basket of bronze
that coming home
is a wedding.

This is home, I'm home
I'll shout
I'm blessed in such a home.

My route
is feverish heights to
disordered depths
then home
once more.


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