No, she wasn’t meant to break like this—
windowless room, fluorescent light, pipes and ducts
whirring behind walls. The poem
she composed last night as she fell asleep
she composed last night as she fell asleep
unraveling. She was meant to break as a line
breaks, as a wave breaks, as a voice breaks. She’s traded
breaks, as a wave breaks, as a voice breaks. She’s traded
