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Reverie
by Abigail Selby

my veins snap- 

like the skin peeling off 

crisp persimmons 

this simmering pleasure, 

this chilling sensation, 

the fear of both being and being without. 

under your teeth, gnashing- 

each and every sinew breaking, 

curling under the weight of every bend 

the moon adheres. 

too much,      there's too much 

weight displaced from you 

to me. Where you tower above me, 

and I shrink below these waves, 

hollowed out in this birch root, nesting. 

too much depends on the gravity you expand, 

placed   unto me;      and I to fall with it.

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