8/3

welcome to my miniature life

i dug this grave with a spoon. everything was a baby 
but especially the television & each breath i took.
my cherry tomato fist. palm standing 
& calling a boyfriend "zeus." talk to me
like you would a necklace of ants. i am
here to carry away each grain of sugar. doorknobs
the size of knuckles. even smaller still
is the passage i use to sneak into the walls. knock
three times on moon & wait for a seagull 
to open the door. i am not welcome in most 
dioramas. they say, "where is your mother & father?"
i say, "i am my mother & father."

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