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Three Poems photo


no one
will pick me up
off the ground
I am not a quarter
my gradient
blends me in
bends light
around me I am
hard to see
with the human eye
cats & straight men
are fascinated
I will be
often alone


two coins on eyelids

two stones in closed palms

emptied and sewn back up

skin not them

we sit all facing the same direction

to stare at a body

not you

the room smelled like pepper

but what I remember is that you never did

so that is what I remember


I press a pin into tape on a balloon
the deflation of my involvement

my double vision betrays me
white flag never mind

the cost of shellshock
the dark shell light

I turn all invasions into pearls

I wash away this impermanent state
I walk home in the dark humming

I sip red wine and weed
and deface anything that looks like me

you’d think I’d be kinder
the key to that door is old and skeleton


image: Tara Wray