*

When my voice and body catch up, I listen to night. 

But night doesn’t speak to me

formally.

I know that night and the sky are not people 
and don’t have a voice. 

And that most likely 
the voice I hear in the night sky is my own. 

I also know that I am not innocent. 

I hand myself a scalpel 
to slice off the parts of me that are not me. 

The night which is a time and the sky which is a place 
watches me cut what isn’t mine from my own body. 


  - excerpt, from "A Girl Could Disappear Like This"