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Fitting 

I stuff myself into a corner
of my closet
make myself small
I am crumpled I am
a bag full of shoes.

I slip myself into an empty
desk drawer
fold my body inwards
smooth me out and start again
I am a paper crane.

I cram myself under the
kitchen chair
wrap my limbs around
the wooden beams I am
a sac of spider eggs.

Speaking of...

  • A poem by Shannon Buckley.

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