I am turning your hands
when really I should be folding these eggs
and in between my fingers I
feel hopeless disgust
& then bedtime.
and it must feel, in my dreams,
like a hunt sent out
against my legs
because mostly I feel my joints
ache when you are around
not when I spend my days
in dandelion fields tirelessly escaping
the idea that your face
is not quite right.
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