I want to stop but these cities won’t let me
To stop the clank of the machinery in the background only I
can catch with an ear so attuned,
to escape trains packed tight like artisan sausages in mornings
when I am woozy and weak,
to elude the smell of chlorine on soot - poorly scooped and wiped up,
to get away from the cramp of human musculature against the currents
And instead, go to a place completely still
Where no one kisses me like I was a gauzy fruit held to a
lip, too ripe and ready for bruising
Where no one wants to look at the curvature above that is
our darkened sky, with its invisible shards of light that can never reach us in time
Where no pretty thing comes inside to stay
Where never looking at a person you think you recognize home
Because these are the things that hurt
So instead, I want to go to a place completely still, to grow
still myself
To be still to stop wishing
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