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Camphor
body
poppyromanov
Mother would move
over the dusty keys
of the old piano

Father got a job
as a scarecrow

I was the beetle
who had stepped
by mistake

I don't know what we did
in that house except
take turns being crushed

Without a blood meal
for thirty days
we could not survive

But laid our eggs
for life

After we moved
the usher came in
with a flashlight
looking for mothballs
under the chair