poem: coming awake after dreams

I am nursing a headache

imagining that

of my five fingers, the one with the blue

nail, with the edges dyed blue,

the nicks painted with flowers,

its color making it

a foreigner to the other four.

Imagining that this one is happy

that this one is all at piece

with being strange

and being frequently bitten off,

like cake

like something good and rich.

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