between shad­ow and substance
years of fear lie behind us, cages

of pain, fun­gus-like dust growth,
damp­ness of an amphibian’s skin,

a dark­en­ing wing: but the length and
cur­va­ture of the talons were what

tru­ly ter­ri­fied. Precedents
were pulled from the stew of history.

None sat­is­fied. Com­ing out of
the nowhere of a war, lost

in anoth­er lan­guage, we fiddled
with our own body parts —

an uneven fin­ger­nail, nos­tril hair,
a mov­able, sub­cu­ta­neous cyst.…

No safe­ty in stasis.
We will not be missed.

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