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Heather Anne Mullins – my cell

Heather Anne Mullins

my cell

my cell: five chambers made of cement
one hundred lovers; fingerprints mark my cell
foggy gray as ash—one window only a palm can pass
to my heart: my cell

my cell: my mind—cold like cement is my organ
I forget how to play—
dense as basement floors—a storage bucket
to keep the keys to the front door

my cell: my heart—keys of black and white
the sound of dead elephants

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