Born to plan. Came out with a scream, no doubt. Then grave, they said.
Off to school soon.
(Catch up.)
Too young for all of this.
I want to dance, she said. If you just want the clothes, we can skip it, she was told. No, dance.
Straight A’s, use your mind, hide the dates of loss. Try to leave all the time but held back.
Split, then still,
risk, trust? No, dance. Move through it.
(Burn it in the woods: flames eat that which no one knows.)
Try to find the place to be where one lets go. Sighs.
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