Flying things
Caroline Klocksiem
Ragweed and pollen already
stacked inside me
but the bee
keeps questioning
my torso for a place
to live. Am I built
like a hive
from everything around me?
When we leave do we
volcano? If our feet grow
away from us
more separate from us
with the death
that is each foots fallen arch
can the body
accept these
arcs as direction?
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