Zero's Bride
Kristine Ong Muslim

     

She wails to be let in like a broken finger.
An outburst of numerical jealousy.
Five opens the door, and she inches
closer, all froth and semi-nothingness.
Golden now, the other numbers say, let us break
our toys. She exhales with the finality
of a one-digit integer between 1 and 9,
all that she's allowed to do in the
boundary between one and nothing,
and joins the party.

 

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