Two Hundred and Fifty-Eight.


Izzy circle


you are your own galaxy and I am mine
each of us contains a thousand worlds
filled with countless tiny ecosystems

we are constantly losing parts of ourselves
and evolving new parts to take their place
folding inwards before we regenerate

I have a black hole somewhere in my stomach
the last of an endangered species of seabird circling your brow


Sarah circle


the cricket rubs his legs together and makes music
so beautiful that when you slow it down, it sounds like a choir of angels
calling the holiest name of god
nobody gives him shit for not having a thigh gap


Have words to throw back at us?

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