Now I keep my windows open. It was dark for too long. I stack up the paper cards, straight. One over two, then four underneath. reaching summit, to build a taller fort. At first light of the day, I slit my finger open, plucking edged lemon grass blades. Two noons after, I dipped my brush in turquoise, cyan and painted over chipping paints and cracking walls to mask ten purple bruises, healing. Hurting and haunting, raw of meat cooked tender. An hour past midnight, I ran the race again, a wild deer's chase. And moments before my death, I woke up dripping in sweat. ~Amrita
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