like light

after Lucille Clifton

every morning i pull myself
through sleeves

from a night that was not elastic
and a pair of mouths filthy with sleep.

the high step down to carpet
is a burial.

and who are these people burying me
every night i dream you forgive me

say it you’re scared bitch say it

Nora Claire Miller is a rising senior at Hampshire College concentrating in poetry and archival studies. Nora’s work has appeared in H.O.W. Journal and The Reader.

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