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when the voices get too
loud, and the wind is
especially blustering
and the sun is particularly
the brightness that illuminates
tends to dull.
after that,
my brain vacates
and my mind meanders.

i visit my papa and nana
and we make an apple pie together.
after i take it from the oven
but before it cools i climb
to the attic.

i'm at the top of the stairs,
and then i'm falling
or flying- of that i'm not sure.
but there’s a red rock beneath me
a ravine with a river running-
like me. my feet are faster than my
head and i stumble
and trip
and then i slip under the
where i live for a year
with a prince.

when I finally come up for
air i'm in greece.
please, excuse me when i leave
but i must ask you
not to follow.

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