inside, the fire burns clear-
not a space to escape, even the trees were cut down
save the olives, the bloody olives
literally bloody and oily,
so oily, this is you then, on the inside
outside, the building is three times
taller than the last time you checked
you had patience, another way of saying waiting
without realizing it, you have grown
used to, not used, taller yet still short
leaner yet with other excess fat on the belly
fat on your sides. Hair lost, things not found
yet the search keeps going. Home again
how many definitions are there for the place
you bury scrapes saved from the fire
tales taller than pages written, than your years
how many definitions are there for rolling a bloody olive
on your palm before stomach it?
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