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  • Writer's pictureEzra Bell

Neima

In a parallel life I have two daughters and they like me

I miss their calls so they sing voice messages

The beautiful blood harmony

The ethereal voices are not

indiscernible from one another,

They are close and the harmonies haunt me

like Jesus

On my thirteenth listen, it dawns

There are three voices?

Alma, Zara, and …? Do I have a daughter I do not recall?

Is it sympathetic resonance within the two wavering voices of Alma and Zara?

Or another one, whole and pure?

Either way she shall be named,

Neima.

One day Neima called and this time I answered

She sang in a single high tone that floated above the loathness of humanity

She held the tone for well over two minutes

I noticed I was crying

I am a father!

Neima’s talents are beyond her sisters’

I should tell her

Neima is shy

I thanked her for her performance and got back to my life’s work

Eventually, Neima came to visit

Knee-high boots

Leather jacket

Their hair, a waterfall

Their body, a canyon becoming a cavern

Their eyes, fish fighting the current to spawn

Earth tries to engulf them

Hello darling, I said

They sang so lovely that night

I have rarely swam in sound, the beautiful voice was a swirl of warm gusts that lift us in the room like mother did, dancing us, moving our arms and legs to the music, sometimes upside down, gravity rushes blood to the face, salt blazing tears we taste in the backs of our nose, laughter pops from our mouth, blurried eyes see a room full of upside-down adults wondering if they should laugh, so they do

We woke up on the ceiling and now cannot reach the doorknob.

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