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a man in my office says we’re in end times and I’m
windshield bullet hole delicatelystretches her tendrils
light my deep oceanblue sadness on fire
red flags don't warn me because they feel like home
we're parallel toed earth trembled, in our mouths tasting
chafed thighs,raw with want.
I didn't have a plan regarding how I would pull weft through ivory warp.
a pinewood trailer park bedroom door held my tiny fists pounding fury.
my belly is soft land spilling over with memories of daggers.
ev'ry morning, my cats witness trails of carnage