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Forest could keep secretsForest could keep secrets
In our flatfaces speakof places across the sea.
In our flatvoices walk intalking, but not like me.
This morning she got upOn the happy side of the bed,Pulled backThe grey sky-curtainsAnd poked her headThrough the blue windowOf heaven,
Which can be brushed out long and fineto lie across a pillowor bunched and scrunched into an angryknot of rain before it is undone, when long hanks of it hang
Next door live three old ladies. They’re sisters, well into their eighties, but to us kids, they seem beyond time.
The sea lays big glass hands on the sand,spreading its fingers out as if newto the shore. It can’t quite believe in it.It wants to hold on before the glass breaks.
The space is a friend.I tell it what hurts.
I tell it why I'm not good.The space is a friend.I tell it the bother I'm in.It won't let me tell lies.