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Image by Drew Beamer
8. Katya_Kuba.jpeg


A cold prick

on the back of my neck

has me standing at attention

Down it tracks

Carving on my back

the terms of my surrender

The blade sinks in

to my mind and my skin

Reality fades to sensation

Cuts on my thighs

My chest, but my eyes

can only watch you in wonder




A full moon

Far from home

Frees the dreary soul

Hearts, hands, hips,

Touch, tickle,


Take what you can get

What is not yours

What is unbound



By the coaxing glow

Of a distant globe

It flows

It grows

It goes, just

A little too far

We hide our faces

Behind fading stars

But there’s nowhere to run

Here comes the sun


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