I cut my hair and watch it fall into the sink.
Ten years ago, this would have been something else
and in the morning I would pull on long sleeves
and not tell anybody.
I apologize to my body for not loving it
correctly. It has been good to me.
If I love you now, will you forgive who I was?
It does not know how to answer me.
If I could step out my door and be lost
in the birch trees. If they could tell me what I deserve.
But the world has many languages,
and I am a poor translator.
It is not time yet. I leave in my sleep,
and it is turquoise skies and endless fields
of flora that I can not name. When I am gone,
let me go.
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