if you stand between two swans,
neck-hearts are split. they tell me to leap
into the hay and have no regrets. love in
the season of marigolds. my heart works until
it’s raw. my body blames itself for its many
shortcomings. I just want to be held by all of your
arms. when we divide my body between
the pale city and the blue country, I cannot
remember your face.
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