Olympiad


We're breeding

a repair moment.


A space to hold

our hands through


so when in flight

we gather up the goggles,


tell someone we love

that we don't love


waiting around.

We give up something


small and old.

We grow in raincoats


and ocean gear

when warm goes missing.


In crane language,

our face in the swamp


where our pipelines are.

Dressed to toes in


empty bunches, standing

tall to reach the sink.

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