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Oct 2015
darling, life is not in my hands

outside the bittersweet turns orange
in the tide, birches like zebra fish

the woods are underwater
bewitched, bitter pulse counting your blood

I cannot promise very much
I cannot promise

but lie still with me and watch

the wind’s not off the ocean
-sleeping, grunting, sighing

and sometimes, sometimes
in the room crying like a wolf
a long time, time

what can I give you
but an ark between the eyes
for when the world goes wild

as pheasants, pulled through the mulch
and foaming, flood of scrub pines
in pink dread strands

I will press my finger here
to the temple of time

where we pool
innocuous in the secret dye
this is a reworking of Anne Sexton's "The Fortress"
Chelsea Chavez
Written by
Chelsea Chavez  Fairfield, CA
(Fairfield, CA)   
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