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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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