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Yesenia Mar 2020
her
face wets
with tears
of long
forgotten
Shadows.

they cling
to her soft
wounds  
like a chained
ancestor.

she
cries a deep
cry.

as she releases them from
the weight of
her dark depths.

they dance down the
memory of her
tears for
at last she
makes them
free.
Yesenia Mar 2020
deep within sacral
waters my hand moves without
thought.

in a trance or sacred
dance.

she flows to the
vibrating sounds
of me.

— The End —