Amanda Turner

Together they create a sound we cannot imagine.

Thousands of them unseeable, making this dark

dense. I open my mouth to be like them,

to have something untranslatable come from my chest

into the world. I feel low to the ground and made from salt

and gravel and electrical wires. I run to Mom who is half-

dressed, her floral nightgown concealing her face. Her arms raised up

in the air. She tries walking without her eyes.

Listen, I say to her as we walk through

the doorway. Remember this, I say to myself when her gown slips

down to her chest. Her eyes are bright

and she laughs in her new way that is happy

and without meaning. Beyond us is the ocean.

Beyond that the sky.


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