Donna GaryICARUSListen to the audio version.The year I study abroad I am in the skyten hours longer than I have ever been I defy the hungry melanin in my skin and shrink as I approach the sun. The familiar ache is stubborn and given wax wings. In my ear canal, under my cheeks, inside my jaw a plastic water bottle being squeezed. I have come too close and stayed too long. A dog somewhere circles restless before it sleeps. How desperate pain can make anyone. Let this end in free fall. When I land my ears do not uncork I strain to hear a new city I eavesdrop without clarity Hungry sounds muffle past me If a voice isn’t a whisper it is underwater A month speeds by Over wine spills and leather skirts I laugh instead of responding I stop asking people to repeat themselves New friends storytell into my left ear they learn my good side. One ear for the alarm in the morning, for listening sorta and one a conch shell for hearing myself I could live hearing less Until the pressure gives way to an ache When I chew, smile or move too fast I can feel wax in my ears hardening like gum on a sidewalk I smack the side of my head until I hear a soft gasp my insides unsticking with a pop In a few seconds of air flow I am flooded with sound Before the small window of relief slams shut.
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