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Yona Harvey

All our goodnights sound like matches striking.
Goodnight, grenade—little knock in the murk, little

Pill in the palm. Put us to sleep
while we sleep. One B leads to another:

Boom. The footage fumes. Once
upon a time there was a suicide. Once upon a time

there was an affair & a missile, a mis-
understanding, an intervention, a b-

Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb—
Keep mouthing after the newscaster moves on.

Boom: a fourteen year old girl married a bomb.

Yona Harvey

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