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241 · May 2020
Twins
Maha May 2020
the air lays foggy
we lay bathed in grey
she holds me loosely
as if her embrace was forced too
her nails press into my spine
suffocating in her breast
tangled in her rib cage
"I'll keep you safe." she says
each word carving into my thighs
I would've believed her
had her twin behind me not responded
"but what if she can't?"
207 · Apr 2020
bouquets
Maha Apr 2020
how far will I grow
when I am only fed the scraps
their rough knuckles
my ever yielding petals
how many bouquets must I give
before my leaves finally wither
my stems shrivel
and my heart and roots grow still and cold
will I too be knarled and twisted
like the trunks above had foretold
I am running out of petals
and now the air is cold and tastes like metal

— The End —