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your hand swells my neck, pretty, you say
i am, no matter how decimal-small. 
my eyelash flutters across your shoulder.
gravity. you land on my chest skin—
breast swelled pretty—shut my jaw 
hmmm. atmos- lips.
pink wisps. my nimbus’d yes
says, make me blue in the face as the day i was born.
years crushed into nothing between us

bright & assigned as birth. girl. garments.
collide me all over under your thumb.
pink pants. i am learning breath.
reviving choke. not between,
but down my legs you go,
saying how long they are, saying, your eyebrows are fucking perfect.

my best parts: between your teeth.
at most fear, i furthest live.
i’d give my meteor-
ological plead, my knees.
anything to be the pretty
girl inside your hands.
your hands inside your girl.

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Published: June 6, 2024