It's not summer yet
but I can feel it already
it's taste on the tip of my tongue
like steel and dried blood
the loss of our innocene
and our bitten down fingernails
hard blue sky and arid air
the stinging scent of Iris
singeing my throat
encaged in a hazy dome
of salt and wine
Feb 15, 2021
Feb 15, 2021 at 12:42 PM UTC
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