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October 7, 2019 Poetry


Lillian Sickler

Hibernation photo

in the poem ava wrote, the one
about a room without sinks

my hands were bone-white antlers yawning
their backs across the floor                             

thick viscous ropes of spit, I didn’t
move for days. the fake deer

stood plastic on the edge of the lawn
eyes glassy like root beer candies

they loved me in between the glare of headlights



image: Doug Paul Case