the sirens sounded like a child’s toy that day
she imagined the people in the ambulance,
miniature white men with perfectly round faces
black raisin dots for eyes
round bellies full of plastic hope.
as a child she would hear those same sirens
and always stop and pray for whoever was it was after
bow her head,
prostrate.
curl her fingers together like spiders attaching themselves
leg by leg
to their prey.
that is,
until she realized that most of the time
it was probably just a cop car
probably just a person
going to fast for this world.
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