Two Hundred and Seventy-Five.


Izzy circle


sometimes, I wish we were manatees
you make me feel like doing naked star jumps
I get why people say ‘love is like a drug’
I never sleep or
I sleep all the time because I am tired out
from all this feeling

right now it feels like I am filled with a million helium balloons
and I want to make a high-pitched happy sonar noise, like
eeeeeeee eeeeeeee eeeeeeee eeeeeeee eeeeeeee


Sarah circle


you are carved in the lamplight
stone and ivory and shimmering bronze
and I am fearful of approaching you

I trace in my skull the curve of your breast
your hip-bone sentinels, the cove in between
you are holy and pagan and sacred and sin

you stir in the quivering, hot blended air
and a trickle of sweat draws a line down your chest
cleaves you in two, like a butterflied lamb

you beckon me over and I stumble in my haste
to kneel at your temple
and press a finger inside



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