I read thru my nose
my eyes’ll be ruined
like my throat for singing
both sides of a duet
trying as songbirds to throat
2 songs at once

mother’s reproving look a constant screen
gridwork graphpaper to plot in

skipping rope dropped
a tiptoe mince roll to the outer edge
feet finding a small stilt
to destroy my ankles with
as a chaired fidget would mar
the watercolor dream-child

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