The poem.

If I close all the doors, all the windows,

If I put up the darkest curtains,

If I hide away the eyes,

The breaths of those watching,

If I get them out of my sight,

Out of my mind,

If I turn off the sunshine, the moonshine, the starshine,

If I turn away the mirrors,

If I stop talking to the voices in my head —

Of my Mom, my ex-husband, my first writing teacher,

If I run away from the crowd,

If I cover the paper with a blanket

If I keep the pen to myself,

If I don’t even let the breeze in my hair,

If I forget about millions of those who are not here,

If I forget about the one who is,



In the shining crystal darkness,

In the emptiness of sounds and visions,

It will be born.

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