Nut
Blue rings in her ears,
persistent and deep—
burrowing, implanted.
Her hands press against
black soil, then fade—
seeping, molding to one.
When she holds her head
back, you can see the
outline of stars
caught in her throat;
the wind drives them there
to nest and to remain unborn.
But the earth fade,
and she is left with stars,
sun, and no husband.
~Hammeh
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