I shrank myself into what Aurora hides in her palm.
Day does not break a man; breaks what is standing in his bones.
I do not know what father said last
I do not know which song holds name together
I do not know who the night took first.
I’m an onion in what dawn weeps
I stand by the headland,
My voice still humming
A bird left broken, yet uncertain of it wings strength.
I drown into a sea in search of a new name.