Revelation | Poetry

Zaynab Bobi

  When the doctor said to your mother, She walked out of the clock I painted three scenes: First, your breath went anti-clockwise: the hour hand walking backwards until it was swallowed by time. Second, you crossed out of time with the minute hand stuck between your teeth — night had slipped into your mouth. Third, you drained your mother’s chest and poured yourself into it; swinging back and forth...

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