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No place to be

I’ve made sense for a while now. May I stop?
Dancing alone is like being
Marie between poems I called myself
Got a different name every day
When there is no place to be
In through the windows
The morning is hungry
The music comes from everywhere

Here it is always morning where the light stops
There are no clothes to wear
No words to chop fine
I break what I break
I breathe what I breathe
These are the fingers of tomorrow

I’ve stopped making sense for a while now.
Breathing alone is like being
Marie climbing days I called myself
The hours run different every day
Up one minute and down the other
The rope is tangled
The clock is tired
The pillows stacked in a giant pile

Now it is always only now
This foot, that foot, me watching
Myself. Your calendar my holiday
No sense to make, no reason
But the music from everywhere
No place to be

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