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Midnight Hour by Ruth Osman

If I
If I don’t
If I don’t say it

If I
If I don’t
If I don’t spit it out

it will leech me dry
leave nothing but husk—
this fear.

Our world is ending.
Our world is ceasing
to cohere.

My child lies sleeping …

How do you prepare
for a world that’s ending
a world that’s ceasing
to cohere?