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The fly in our living room

stays on the window

facing west,

watching a series of afternoons

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

turn to night.

Its false-start ignition buzzing

is louder than conversation,

sharper than our strain of thought,

stronger than the sound of traffic outside.

The fly crawls upward,

always toward the sky,

away from the open pane

below.

- Kat Isacson

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