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The Sky Has a Body

Serena Alagappan

The sky has a body—it blushes, coughs

with smoke, folds under atmospheric

pressure, warms pink, goes icy and silent,

runs a fever, crowds with unwanted visitors,

expels birds like a throat swallows stones,

like a stomach stills a swarm of butterflies.

The sky wheezes with its wind, loses its

breath, belches thunder, heart beats shocks

of electricity and weeps from every pore

when it’s hurting.

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