These silences you keep now
grow in my mouth.

I cannot speak the words
that would sleep with you each night.

These fields of toppled storm that you vacated
grow wild on my tongue.

Nothing grows there,
it spreads beyond everything,

and it claims all the temperate cats,
and it knocks in all the red doors,

and every part of you I stole
finds its freedom.

Sands of dusk, the shipwrecked sun,
dunes collect behind my eyes,

giant birds circle with my voice,
lizards burrow with my memory of ruins.

I cannot see you out there alone,
as light as an empty dress embracing the wind.

Violent sandstorms fill the throat of my soul,
a verdant silence grows in my mouth.

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