One Hundred and Forty-Four.


Izzy circle


obsessing over the movements of the sun
the way the light breaks over rumpled sheets
or glares into drooping mid-afternoon eyes

this heaving celestial body doing the rounds
sparking fires in the skull, the gut, especially the ribcage
says a lot about optimism and absence


Sarah circle


As the wine and the night and the 5 am sheets fold me up
The woodfire smoke is stinging my eyes and hair
Floating like a buzzing cloud over my too-high forehead
Disaster systems go –
Kiss you –


Have words to throw back at us?

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