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What the Child Cannot Unhear
The child covers both ears.
The sound slips between the fingers
and burrows into the palms.
The hands grow heavier.
The elbows bend backwards.
Two small doors
seal over the skull.
But the noise has already entered.
It rattles inside the wrists,
a little house
with every window lit.
The mother lies still.
The blanket remembers breathing.
The child presses harder.
The ears disappear.
The hands keep listening.
~ Oizys.
~ Oizys.
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