They might spend most of their days in the sky, / but every evening they remember / to come back to earth.
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The doll stares at its owner, eyes sparkling with cruelty. It wakes the baby up, hands her the toy block. The baby, as though possessed, crams the toy in her mouth.
I lay my head down on a pillow pilled / with characters, yellow tracks and traces / of the name I was given.