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Poems from Room of Thieves


Wool and air

Have you ever pulled your hand
into the wrist of your glove
and pretended the empty glove was your hand?

It stays, a faithful shape of you,
a delicate woollen hand-shaped balloon;
it can fool even those closest to you.

No-one will know till they try to shake you by it,
grab you by it as you fall,
reach out to put their hand on yours.

Try it – it’s a scream – the fingers
crumple on contact just as if they’re broken
in a million places.

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