Imprisoned in a pointed tower,

a sticky, stubborn lump of clay.

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Pulled down by gravity,

it slips away to the earth’s far edge.

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A naked body hidden within wings

drifts softly, following the wind.​

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When I’m alone,

I take it out in secret

and hold it up to the mirror—

there it is: a shining self.

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In my mother’s womb,

already turning toward a new world—

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liberation in the midst of chaos.

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