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bent backs
grasses bent in a tweak of fingers
bent my fingers bent my bones
my toes in
earth sweating dew
digging a way out
sweetness
sucking on a single clover
I will count them all
shards of glass in the mirror
every part of me adds
up to nothing
I’m standing in front of violets
in front of a Renaissance painting
and wondering what do I have
Even if the school desks
Are perfectly aligned
And the chairs evenly spaced
And the walls precisely decorated
And the white boards
Sparkling white,