Tongue tied lava sky.
Teeth scraping against heavy mouths.
 
Clouds wrapped around waists,
waists wrapped around hands,
waists curved,
waists bruised,
wasted breath
wasting time
on something
that’s never coming
even the sky becomes tired
of swallowing down the lump in her throat
 
so that the moon
will love her again.

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Cory Garcia
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