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fear

to have
a single strand of iron tangled
through your bones, the silver
sheen of prickly words coating
flimsy blood cells

the azure color of tears
against fingernails, so pale
so pale they glint in spite of everything,
everything you've never taught them

it feels like I am drifting,
sifting, shifting through some
half state of being and the rusty
taste of metal under your tongue
the way it hurt to hear them speak
the way your throat pinched shut
the way the storm lost me, two fifths
of the way to paradise
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