a clay lump is quiet till it spins
press your fingers there and listen
someone inside is speaking
clean its airway a blockage baffles
the words dig deeper scoop and scrape
till you see the mouth free the arms
keep circling the diaphragm
cut the legs free
remember perfection is hand made
loved and wounded molded and scolded
like a child like your first born
release it into the world
into a reality that will harden it
or if you’ve done well watch it leap
straight out of your hands and into the fire
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