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‘YOU CUT MY CHEST OPEN / GRIEF IS NOT AN EMPTY SMOKE / YESTERDAY IS A MONOGRAM STITCHED INSIDE MY TONGUE | three poems by Annah Atane

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You Cut My Chest Open

              You cut my chest open on a table and filled the wound with burning coal
I promise this will not be my end unless,
I fan the flames

The eyes are of no use if none of us can spell fire— the mouth is only
valuable if it does not leave a scar on memory

One time I tried to fan the flame, and light leapt out of my blood
It glittered like the lake touched by the sun
until I remembered that my body was not
a dungeon

The way you remember a dream, an image glimmers before your eyes
then you pause to pick the scenes

Fear: it is difficult to keep my heart to myself I have plucked and flung
in the river where only water can keep it pure

So you see, I remain an orchid courting the affection of sunrise
my hands cannot imprison an applause
or quench a pulse

Give me hugs, like vines over a wall
this will not wrap a man's victory—
my mother did not nurture a thief

I spent so long praying for my own grace ;
a cathedral tongue I am gracious with hope

It is not a long drive to heaven if you want to talk about repentance!

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