Untitled
mum and dad
didn’t give
me a name
neither
did
they say
what day
i was born–follow
rain fruit drips follow
forest culture
crane to crane
thinking not
of what is happening
to your trousers
nor what the nightlights
refuse your eye,
they wrote as a will.
when they wanted
me out
of my shell
they struck a coconut
against the wall where
i keep my ear
where my breath walks. and
when they wanted
me to draw sunlight
into their living room, they
kissed me
with the lips
smelling of white juice

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