[9/21 - 9/23:]
A window slowly wiped clean of fog. (No.)
A mirror in fragments on the pavement,
one shard catching the sun,
burning my eye. (No.) A saucepan
dropped and clattering down stairs,
but I am in the pan and the falling
takes days. On the third day I ease
myself out. Stand up. Something trickles
from my ear. The dented pan
still ringing. I place it
on my head.
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