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Words MAG
  Seriously? my mom asks
  I’ve written all over the walls again
  I try to blame my brother but
  my marker-stained hands reveal
  the real culprit and even if they didn’t
  there are words all over the walls
  large words small words wonderfully strange and exciting words –
  stray words that I decided to keep after
  they followed me home from kindergarten and she knows
  that it’s me and I sigh
  as she hands me a wet rag to clean up
  the mess
  the sunlight spills over the mountains like hot red soup and my math teacher says
  stop thinking
  about differential equations on fractals
  in metaphors
  but why not, I think
  and the sunlight melts into the fog
  I wonder how many places I’ve already
  visited for the last time, she says as we
  sit on the grass under the tree with leaves rustling like scuttling mice and
  he says they say there might be entire
  universes tucked away in black holes
  and not just deformed space-time and I say
  holy crap you guys look
  and the stars look like ocean spray
  on black sand and he says they kind of look like speckled
  blood and she says like blood melting
  into the sky and I say
  like snow
  and suddenly the stars are specks of blood melting into the sky like snow and
  he says that we’re strange but we already know and
  we’re glad we’re in the same creative
  writing class
  it’s four a.m. on the plane back from
  Oakland and I’m looking
  out the window into the stars, remembering
  the moon is cold and burning and white and I’m remembering and it’s
  surrounded by ash as it rises through
  turbulent skies and she says stop
  thinking about differential equations on fractals in metaphors and I
  say all right but I’m thinking that
  the moon looks like a cigarette burn in
  the night sky.

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