Aug 2017
the lights move
yellow along
the curves
of your face
soft voices
wait
in the rising
fall of your chest
briefly our shoulders
touch
in sleep
your hand
flutters like
a dying bird
yellow along
the curves
of your face
soft voices
wait
in the rising
fall of your chest
briefly our shoulders
touch
in sleep
your hand
flutters like
a dying bird
making the most of an awkward situation.
(Utah)
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