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I am a mouth
A couplet lip
I am a pair of hands
A set of searching fingertips
The fog of mourning
Swallows me whole
I am a fist
I swing an empty bucket
I wear a hollow weight
The force of what to do with it
The fog of mourning
Swallows me whole
Lose every detail
In clouds that come
And moons that grow
I lean to touch the wall
And my fingers take me by surprise
The burst and breaking sight
And I will see my own sighs
I will use both my hands
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