song of september petals cup my hands, a green gold buzzing through fingers. there is no god in any of this, moon bright bruises, charcoal smudge clouds, pomegranates. where in this is god? myrrh buzzing, sink me lower in jeans. wanting to kiss. cicadas, grass wet feet, breeze buffeting elbows. gazelles rub shoulders, night grows crickets. bricks rumble. cup my hands and green gold buzzing, god, even slower, drop me off rooftops, a waterfall. in any of this, charcoal bruises moon surfacing god, kiss me cup my hands, heavy petals drop my eyes, in a green gold buzzing, i opened and it flew. |
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© sarah kowalski |