i could be breezier and damp with you, entwined by the calves
so how do i bring you here? by pulling flowers out of my mouth?
condiments for dipping in and out of conversation
women loving women reclaiming the land from the sea
thoughts like small ugly pellets protruding elastic
goldenrod toes, running
a hand through your bleached
purpling to bring the poem back to neutral
like glass birds we have nothing in common
with real life and the next day we have the same dream
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