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Poem #12

a long term cure for paronychia

we linger on your hangnails, preparing to be chewed away. i want you to dip me headfirst into paraffin wax, but don’t let me drown, just let me soften you up enough to hold my hands. i’m tired of your bleeding; cauterize that wound and let the scar tissue begin to build, leaving its mark in red then white, a line to trace when i tire of your body, ready for bed where we can origami our fingers into unfamiliar intimacy, coming easier every day we forget every moment that came before now.

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Poem #33

Striped I fell from a dock in the summer, split my hand open like a ripened fig, blood drip-dropping to ruddy the waves while I gulped down salty red, I swam to shore, hand raised above my head, looki

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