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Blue Mouths: The Infinite 

Leila Farjami | Poetry

I grow a blue mouth— 
blue lips, blue teeth, 
            a blade-thin tongue.  
            I go to the sea  
that beckons me home— 
a return to thirst’s origin.  
            The sun haloes 
            the clouds. A coronation?  
A wedding? The water  
glitters, frothy as light.  
            I stand on the sand,  
            watching heads  
vanish. When I dip  
my toes, it could be 
            my head beneath.  
            If not for the horizon,  
I might cross.  
Afraid of slipping  
            into the infinite.  
            No rooms. No doors.  
No mirrors. Like my city  
after the raid— 
            naked,  
            unmarked grave.