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in search of eternal sunshine

inadequately blue


inadequately blue 

the sky folds open every morning like origami

and i fold out with it, like butterflies,

like pretty birds, lifting away,

only to be caught in the creases of the ocean.

they say that if you make one thousand

paper cranes, you get a wish.

if my fingers did not ache, i would fold and fold and fold

until i got not one wish, but a million,

and i would scatter them across the sea

and kiss the feathers that wash up on the shore each year.


Emma Shi