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Numb
I could still feel a pulse in the space
the empty place
where ivory had been
my daughter, patient, worried, waiting
when it is over she runs to me
wet eyes, smiling mouth, shoulders high
I hand her a small transparent bag, my tooth inside
she asks if another will take its place
and I don’t have it in me to tell her
that I am losing pieces of myself
outside, when I take her in my arms
she presses her cheek against my own
for the first time, I cannot feel it
Thrush's Song: Project
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