Our bodies are war zones where brave kisses fall like warriors
i. I am hard earth drunk with early October drought secretly eating out my barren chest with imagined erosion; every duskfall I spring with a wildfire dream to become surrogate mother to vegetation there is softness here waiting & waiting for you to bury somewhere in eternity after you unearth its language. do not be in a hurry to speak in tongues remember how silence is once a caterpillar how holy the hand gestures of a new-born sower before the butterflies in our bellies fell for monarchy ii. We are illicit as opium in the east, we spark war where sound minds easily come off as unbuckled pants. Desert-dry, we are each other's promised land and manna is nothing more than a shower from your manhood. While people play pharaohs, my Moses stretch forth your rod and burn, burn for these legs that part like valleys, red as an Egyptian sea
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April 2019
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